Damien
AS INSTRUCTED, I park the Alfa Romeo in a wooded area a few miles outside the Nightgardin border. Air travel would have been too noticeable, yet I fear none of that matters now. Even though I made it here faster than anyone should be able to drive, it still took hours—excruciating hours where I had to be alone with my own thoughts, imagining what that ruthless witch and her spineless king might be doing to Juliet.
Juliet, who thinks I forgot her.
Juliet, who thinks I cannot love her.
Juliet, who may not be alive by the time I get to her.
As soon as I exit the vehicle, something rustles in the brush up ahead.
I’ve been in a bar brawl or ten. I can hold my own if my hands are not bound behind my back or if I’m not clocked upside the head with a fucking pistol. But I didn’t think of obtaining a weapon before I hopped in my car and drove—my singular focus getting to my wife and child in time to save them both. I hadn’t really thought about the how.
The sound comes again; this time the entire bush shakes.
“Show yourself,” I say, readying myself for hand-to-hand combat.
A horse whinnies and my shoulders drop. I follow the sound, guided only by the light of the moon. On the other side of the tree is a white steed roped to a branch. A quiver of arrows and a bow are strapped to his saddle, and I outright laugh. Because this is X’s doing.
Who the hell is that guy?
Pinned to the quiver is a note as well.
Your Highness,
This is Maximus. He will obey your every command as he has been trained by The Order to be ridden by you and only you.
“How?” I ask aloud, then continue to read.
Do not ask how. You should know better than that by now. All you need to know is that you can trust this horse to get you to Juliet, and he, in turn, will trust you. Do not leave his side, and you will be safe.
I shake my head and chuckle, yet I know to heed X’s words. He saved Nikolai and Kate from our overambitious stepmother. He stopped Rosegate from using Benedict’s wife Evangeline to gain access to the map that leads to the spring—if it even exists.
With a bow, arrows and a hell of a lot of hope, I untie the horse, mount it and kick my heels against his flanks.
“Yah, Maximus!” I call, and we take off into the night.
* * *
My years of exile have taken me all over the world, but I always felt a strong pull toward Nightgardin, despite its differences with Edenvale. Perhaps on some level I was drawn to Juliet. Whatever the reason may be, it is why I’ve spent the bulk of my banishment years right here in these lands, which means I know them almost as well as I know the land of my birth.
We traverse the woods on the east side of the royal grounds because it is the only place where we can hide in the cover of dark. The royal square rests in the center of the gated lands. So all we have to do is make it past the east gate guards, and we’re in.
Easier said than done.
Even if I can aim and shoot an arrow, I do not wish to strike first. Plus, they will all be armed with guns.
Maximus rears his head, impatient.
“Not yet,” I whisper, inching him closer to the forest’s edge. “Not yet.”
Then an idea takes hold.
I pat the pocket of my jacket and grin when I find what I hoped would be there—a lighter.
Nightgardin cigars are illegal in Edenvale, but hell if they aren’t the best. I don’t partake often, but when I do, I like to be prepared.
I tear off my jacket and then my shirt. I wrap the latter around the shaft of an arrow, near the tip.
“On my count, Maximus,” I say, praying that X’s words are true, that I can trust this steed.
I tie off the shirt, making sure it won’t give way. Then I set it ablaze.
“Three...two...one. Now, Maximus!”
He rears on his hind legs and sprints from the cover of trees. As soon as we come into the well-lit perimeter of the palace gates, I find what I knew would be there—the electrical transformer that powers most—if not all—the property that lies beyond the gates.
As Maximus gallops toward the gates at top speed, I ready my bow, aim and shoot.
Sparks fly, and the wooden pole on which the transformer rests catches fire. Guards run both toward it and away from it in mass confusion, and I notice that these are not the Black Watch.
I grit my teeth. The Watch, in its entirety, is in the square doing who knows what to my wife. My child.
My horse and I are steadfast in our purpose—making it to the gate.
A gate that is far too tall for him to clear. But he doesn’t slow, nor do I command him to do so because this is our only chance. Either we die on this side or die trying to get over it.
As shouts of “Trespasser!” and “Shoot!” ring out among the chaos, Maximus reaches the gate—and we fly.
Or at least it feels like we do.
Shots ring out, and I hiss as white-hot pain slices through the skin on my shoulder just as Maximus’s back legs clear the only thing barring me from my wife.
As we slam into the ground, I give myself a split second to check my wound.
Blood runs along my bare arm, and I remember that my shirt is at the burning end of an arrow—my jacket most likely on the forest floor. I have no protection other than speed and my archer’s aim.
But it’s nothing more than a graze. It’s nothing I won’t endure to save those I love.
My wife. Our child. The fates of our two kingdoms.
Stay alive, Juliet. I will find you.
Juliet
The chief executioner kneels. “For what I am about to do, Highness, I am gravely sorry and humbly beg for your forgiveness.”
I stare at the man who will bring about my end. In my country, it is custom for the condemned prisoner to absolve the guard assigned to take their life. Everything has a ritual here, even state-sanctioned murder.
“No.” My voice is clear and strong. “If you do this you shall kill your future queen and the heir to come after me. I offer no forgiveness for such an act.”
A ripple passes through the crowd. My reaction is unanticipated. I’m not playing their game by their rules any longer. Because I won’t stand silent as I’m tortured and my unborn child dies in my body for my mother’s insane ambition.
The murmurs in the crowd grow louder and I see heads turning, looking away from my position at the stake to some distant point behind them. Shouts rise in the distance.
“Stop that man!”
“Throw up barricades.”
“Fire!”
A volley of gunshots crack, and the crowd falls to the ground, scrambling to the edge of the square.
And that’s when I see him.
Damien charges toward me on a magnificent white steed, a bow stretched taut, an arrow nocked on the string, the shaft on fire.
He isn’t in shining armor. He wears nothing but the ink that covers his skin. Though his face looks like approaching death, he is my knight come to rescue me.
“Damien!” I scream, as if he can’t see me, the main event, tied to the stake. “I’m here! I’m here!”
The Black Watch move wordlessly, assembling before me in a half perimeter, unslinging assault rifles from across their backs.
“Light the pyre!” my mother screams. “Forget the lashes! Light the pyre!”
The chief executioner rises to his feet and glances at the kindling on which I stand. The bundled twigs are dry and reek of gasoline. All it would take is one, and I’d light up faster than a birthday candle.
“Don’t do this,” I say. “You’re on live television. The Prince of Edenvale is approaching. Do you think he’ll end you quickly if you kill his wife and child?”
The executioner turns to face Damien. My prince’s expression is thunderous.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness.” The executioner removes a long blade from the scabbard at his hip.
Before I can scream, he drives the blade down my middle, expertly cutting the ties that bind me without leaving so much as a scratch on my clothing.
“Your kindness will not be forgotten,” I gasp.
He nods and sprints away without another word, ducking the flying bullets.
“Juliet!” Damien calls. “Dive to your left.”
I don’t question my husband. I simply obey. And as I hit the ground I see him unleash his arrow, lighting the pyre. Although now only the empty stake burns.
He kicks the haunches of his stallion and drives him forward. The waiting Black Watch have two choices: back into the flames or get run down by four churning hooves.
All take the surprise third option—fleeing in all four directions.
“Your hand,” he shouts.
I rise to my feet, throwing up my arm. He grabs it and tugs, swinging me off the ground and over the horse.
“Yah, Maximus!” he urges.
“After them!” Mother calls in the distance.
Floodlights illuminate us.
“Looks like we’ve got some company,” Damien growls, wrapping a hand around my middle and locking me against his torso.
An armored Jeep appears out of nowhere, the distance between it and us growing smaller by the second.
“Turn right!” I yell, and my heart warms as Damien veers in the direction of my command without question.
Maximus leaps over a three-foot hedge, and the Jeep slams to a screeching halt.
“Where are you taking us, Princess?”
“This is the way that I sneaked out the night we met at the Veil,” I say. “The mountain on this side forms a natural barrier, but there is an old irrigation tunnel at the south corner that will bring us into the city.”
“There,” he says, driving the horse on.
The black mouth of the cave emerges from the night’s shadows, and we tear into it, the horse not balking despite the fact that there are only inches of space on either side of us and maybe half a foot at best overhead. The light in the distance gets closer and closer with every one of Maximus’s strides.
Then we burst out into the city, and four police cars career up the street, sirens blazing.
Damien veers the horse up an embankment and onto a steep road. “Do you remember where we are?” he says into my ear, his breath warm against my skin.
It takes me a minute before I realize where we are going. It’s the same road we took when we left The Veil.
“We’re going to Lovers’ Leap,” I gasp, craning my head around my shoulder so that I can meet his gaze. “Do you remember now?”
“Yes. I remember everything,” he says, and his eyes burn. “Every last damn wonderful thing.”
A sob wells in my throat. Even though we are racing for our lives, it’s as if time has utterly stopped.
“I am going to get you out of here alive, and we are going to have our child and grow old somewhere safe and boring.”
I burst out laughing. “Life with you will never be boring.”
And then we’re outside the city proper, retracing our path along the mountain’s winding road until we’re there. The Lovers’ Leap.
For several seconds it’s quiet, and I truly think we’ve outmaneuvered our pursuers.
But then there it is, the wail of the sirens as the four police cars skid around the corner.
“Do it,” I say. “Go over the edge.” My laugh is high and nervous. “Perhaps ours will have a happier ending.”
Damien squeezes me tight. “There’s no other way.” His voice is tight.
“I trust you with my life,” I answer with conviction. “And the life of our unborn child. Damien... I love you.”
He kisses me short and sweet, his lips tasting like the promise of forever even if it only lasts for a moment.
And then, we leap.