Chapter 13 - The Dragon King's Substitute Bride

HERA

I wait a while until I’m sure she would have gone far and then I open the door again.

As expected, my prison guard appears instantly.

I infuse a courage I don’t feel into my voice. “Get me the chamber maid Henette”

As expected, He does not move. “I was given very specific orders not to leave this door unguarded.”

I try hard not to swallow. “And something tells me you were also given orders to make sure I am properly attended to.”

He remains silent and still but his brow twitches and I know I’m right.

I continue as casually as I can, grateful he cannot see how fast my heart is pounding “Well, I require a bath, so fetch me the chamber maid.”

“But you just had one.”

I rise to my full height and say words I never thought would come out from my mouth.

Indignation lends a cold steel to my voice that surprises even me. “I would think the Ryders of the dragon realm know better than to question their queen.”

Uncertainty creeps into his eyes. “I’m sorry your grace but I cannot leave you unguarded. If the King found out, he would have my head.”

“And you think I won’t?”

He bows his head but refuses to move an inch.

Damn Midas and his Iron fist rule.

I struggle to keep the authority in my voice even though all I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry. “What is your name?”

He hesitates. “Garwith my queen”

Little wonder he looked familiar.

“Well Garwith, you can be rest assured the King will be hearing about your insubordination. I hope your affairs are all in order.”

And I slam the door in his face.

By Zeus and Hades let it work.

I wait three pounding heartbeats, tying a velvet hooded cape of the same dark blue color around my neck to hide my hair and face before cautiously opening the doors again and when I do…

There is no one in sight.

You know that feeling of unease that sneaks up on you when you do not expect some plan or event to work out the way it is supposed to and yet it does.

The way it feels like the gods might be playing with you, luring you into a trap.

Distrust seeping in through the cracks of your skin like smoke slowly filling up a room until it chokes out all the courage you fought so hard to build in the first place.

And suddenly you find yourself afraid, unable to take that next vital step.

As I stand in front of the king’s chambers, staring down the short strangely quiet, yet empty hall with its grey stone walls and dark purple rug, I can feel the smoke trying to creep in, making my heart pound and my palms sweaty but I shut it out.

It is a skill I excel in. A skill burned into my memory.

Every day, just before the palace bells in Averia struck for the twelfth time at high noon, my brother and I would set up in opposite directions towards our marks for the day.

We’d scale walls and fences to land on the balls of our feet in the grounds of houses whose occupants we had been watching for days before and knew would most definitely gone about their activities for the day far away from their homes.

Hoping against hope that there was an open window, a faulty lock, a carelessly abandoned door and barring all three options, that there were no passersby to hear when the kitchen window’s glass shattered from the rock carefully aimed at it.

But even when we found that open door the merchant’s daughter or farmer’s wife forgot to lock, there was always the possibility there was someone sick, someone who hadn’t stuck to their pattern and was still inside, someone who would catch us legs first crawling into their houses to steal.

This meant we only had two options;

Block out the smoke threatening your courage and break that window or starve to death.

A few nights of crippling hunger soon taught us option two was no option at all and we learnt to shut out the smoke before it came knocking.

You call it impulsive recklessness, I call it survival.

And it is that need to survive that has me stepping into the hall and closing the doors softly behind me.

I knew from looking out the window in my…his room and from the first time Leo had led me out that the King’s chambers was located at the top of a tower and that there was only one way to access it; a set of treacherous, winding, smooth stone steps.

The same steps the guard would be returning up on any moment with the chamber maid I most definitely did not need.

This means there is absolutely no time for me to even think, it is either now or never.

I follow the curve of the wall on my right to reach the top of the steps. A quick glance shows no one but the gods have been playing favorites recently so I can’t trust that to hold up for long.

I gather up the skirts of my gown, bunching up the rich soft velvet in one hand and leaning the other hand on the wall to steady myself.

The stones are warm beneath my hand from the brilliant sunlight streaming in through the open window in the left wall of the staircase.

Over the pounding of my heart, I can hear birds chirping happily and a soft breeze brings in the scent of the ivy creeping on the outside of the castle walls.

What a beautiful day to escape captivity.

If I wasn’t nearly breathless with fear, I would have laughed.

I start down the steps, fast enough to match my fear at being caught yet being careful not to miss a step.

It would not do to escape my marriage only to end up with a broken neck at the base of the dragon castle’s tower.

Halfway down the steps, my luck runs out.

I freeze in place, not even daring to look down as voices float up like grey misty ghosts to haunt me from the base of the steps.

I look around me in a panic.

The stairway is narrow and surrounded by smooth walls of grey stone on both sides.

Unless I hurled myself out the window I just passed, whoever came up the stairs would definitely find me.

The voices seem to be coming closer and I feel a bead of sweat roll down my back.

But just before I can drop dead of a panic induced heart attack, the voices begin to move away from the steps.

I don’t even wait for them to disappear completely before I pick up my pace and hurry down the remaining steps.

I reach the foot of the tower in a breathless huff and follow the short passage that soon branches off to the left and the right.

Where to now?

I try to remember the path Leo led me but my ever helpful brain refuses to produce anything but endless warnings of exactly what would befall me should I be caught by the guard or heavens forbid, Midas himself returning early.

Approaching footsteps and the distinct clang of moving amour from my right decides for me and I quickly step to the left, hiding in the arched doorway of a room leading god knows where.

The guard passes the passage I just left, an obviously nervous Henette trailing behind him.

She’s bending her head and wringing her hands and I instantly feel sorry for her.

Then she raises her head just before she passes.

A millisecond later and I would have been safe.

But in my rush down the steps, my hood had fallen off and the reflection of the jewels in my hair catches the sunlight from a window and our eyes meet.

She starts in surprise.

My heart drops to the floor and breaks into a thousand pieces.

The flickering flame of hope I have extinguished in that very instant.

“Henette?”

It’s the guard, calling out to her.

When she doesn’t answer, I hear him turn around.

I hear the clanging, ominous sound of his metal boots as he retraces his steps towards us and yet I never take my eyes of Henette.

Please….. Please…Please. I hear my head screaming but I know it’s no use.

And just inches before he can reach her, she turns towards him with a sad smile.

“Sorry Garwith, I dropped something. I must be so nervous. Let us go before she finds out you left your post by the door.”

I stand still for a full second and even when I hear them start climbing up the steps, I am still unable to move.

Instead I stand blinking in confusion at the now empty space where a few seconds ago Henette had deliberately misled the guard and let me go.

Why?

Why has she done this?

But I don’t have time to think about it.

Any moment now, Garwith will knock on my door and he will get no answer. He will knock again and again and then finally he would open the door to the king’s chamber, his heart in his throat.

And then all hell would break loose.

I must be long gone by then.

Think Hera, think.

Henette is a chamber maid like I used to be. This would mean, she spends most of her time either cleaning or in the kitchens.

And castle kitchens always, always have a servants’ door that leads to the back of the castle.

I hurriedly take the passage they had just come from, taking care to walk up straight and to put on my hood.

I know no one would recognize me at first glance but the other maids had seen me and royal servants were nothing if not accomplished gossips, at least among themselves.

Take it from me.

For the first time in my life, my nose is my saving grace and after a few false starts, I find myself in the hot, humid, castle kitchen smelling of freshly baked pies and mouth watering golden roasted pheasants.

But the gods must be looking upon me with mercy because there is absolutely no one in sight.

And straight ahead, a wooden door from which slants of sunlight cast bright reflections all across the kitchen floor beckons me with whispered promises of freedom and escape.

I hurry towards it and not a second too soon because I hear a loud shout a moment later.

But it doesn’t matter to me anymore.

I am finally free.