Chapter Text
Footsteps creaked the long floorboards of the dark castle. A figure tip-toed their way down the hall, turning corners with mastered stealth. They looked over their shoulder, noticing the lack of guards. Advancing, the figure creeped around the corner to a large door.
The door was pushed slightly ajar, the figure kicking it open slightly more, trying to stay unseen and quiet. After entering the room, the figure let out a heaving breath they had been holding ever since they had left the confines of their room.
“Did you bring the things?” A voice asked from the desk on the furthest side of the room. The figure dropped their hood and unstrapped the heavy sac adorning their back. They lifted the sack in their hands, waving it around teasingly. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”
The figure laughed, setting the sac down in the voices arms and going to turn on a lantern. They turned on the light with a flick of their wrist and light blasted throughout the large room.
The room was evidently a bedroom. A gigantic bed with fitted silk sheets and pillows sat in the back middle of the room, under the wide window. To the side of the room, pushed to the wall was a polished wooden desk stacked with neat rows of paper. Ink rested in a small glass pitcher, waiting to be dipped by a quill and looped into words. A letter sat dead centre of the desk, a loombing figure staring down at it before looking back up at the knight ahead of them.
“Even the garlic?” The figure asked cautiously.
“Especially the garlic. It reeks! Do not stick your hand in this bag or you might never get the smell off of you,” they smack one of the sacks on their back, feigning disgust.
Amity chuckles, “oh, what would I do without my garlic?” She shakes her, choosing to ignore Boscha’s little ‘your breath would smell better’.
Amity smiles at her friend before collecting herself and putting on a stoic expression. This part was easy to plan for. Forging the supplies, easy. Convincing her parents to let them officially leave, not as easy. They had been planning for the excursion ever since Luz’s final letter was received. A hunting trip she told her parents. A means to brush up on a skill in a wealthy forest bursting with life and game to catch. Of course they bought the twisted story, always pushing Amity to achieve more and be better and better, even if it was unreasonable and impossible.
Boscha had been easily convinced to run away. The loyal knight had been by her side since they were kids, Boscha eventually joining the Arms of Knights and becoming her personal knight once they turned fifteen. For as long as she can remember, they were always looking out for each other, there to make sure everything was ok on both ends. In the past, Boscha always took blame for Amity’s actions, covering up the story. She was loyal and true. Always throwing herself in danger for Amity’s sake. Even after fretting over her, Boscha told Amity she liked protecting her, it was what she wanted to do. Amity could find no ounce of deception behind those desperate, pleading eyes.
When she told Boscha of her and Luz’s plan to run away with each other, unsurprisingly Boscha immediately stated she was going to. ‘Wherever you go I will follow.’ Boscha had said after asking Amity if running away was truly what she had wanted. They both knew she despised life as a princess being paraded around to all sorts of suitors in hopes of finding a man to rule the kingdom with her.
Their plan to leave was simple.
The palace of Selene was heavily guarded, even in terms of royalty. Some would call it overbearing, no reason to lock behind rows and rows of knights and trained servants. But at the same time people praised the kingdom for having one of the highest employment rates of all of the regions, no one denied a job when the royal guard was always looking for more as seniors retired annually.
Having so many guards meant lots of eyes, they wouldn’t be able to escape under the spotlight of the moon. A crafty plan had to be put in place.
It was a simple hunting trip. One Amity had gone on plenty of times, both with her parents and alone with only a few other hunters and guards. Telling her parents she had decided to venture off to Nepua for an annual hunt only caused slight suspicion. Usually she gave months warning to any departure from the castle if she so chose it to be an independent arrangement. Those queries were shut down once she stated the Duke of Dimwater was going to be there, one of her previous suitors of which she turned away, not any more interested than the other suitors that day.
After hearing potential progress on a blooming relationship, her mother quickly whisked her off to prepare. No additional guards were needed as Amity stated they would be accompanied by the Duke, leaving her to only require a personal guard. Lenient, her mother also permitted her to leave without any servants or huntsmen, saying the party should stay small if they wanted to have any meaningful conversations and plentiful hunt.
Over the past two weeks, Boscha had been preparing, packing, and rationing their supplies. In a small pouch connected to both their waists held a heafty amount of gold coins, too much for a simple trip to the neighboring kingdom.
Overall, the small party of two looked ready and hopeful for a grand week of hunting. Excitement wafted through the usual stony castle, Amity pleasantly greeting all she passed with her bag over her shoulder. The bag that held all her life’s possessions she deemed sentimental enough to take to her new life.
She had packed no dresses, picking only flexible trousers and loose tunics she could tuck. In the front pocket of the bag held a bundled up piece of fabric. When the time came, she could wrap it around her head and face as a veil, making it harder for the eye to recognize the princess.
Amity had avoided her siblings ever since she had got the confirmation letter from Luz, knowing they’d pick up on the mischievous matter. It’s not like she didn’t want to say goodbye, hell, she longed to. But they were an obstacle that would bring her down, out her to her parents. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t trust them with this information. They’ve betrayed her trust before, even if it was much smaller matters than the current one at hand.
Servants ‘speak’ had made its way to Boscha and in hand Amity. The twins knew something was up about this trip. They knew Amity would never, no matter who or what was forcing her, agree to see a suitor a second time, basically shouting her attraction to men. They both suspected she had her eyes on more unruly figures.
These accusations that wandered through the servants and chiefs caused unneeded drama during their departure. Some people eye her and shake their heads, as if they couldn’t even imagine her having -that- kind of mindset. Others look relieved, as if watching her depart to the other kingdom promised great telling, a future for the kingdom.
Grabbing her horse, a pure white Percheron, she directed her towards the gates. A sable hand helped her mount, wishing her good game on the hunt.
Boscha and her stallion made their way ahead, the horse littered with overflowing saddlebags.
They left the gates, waving bye to the gatherings of people. Walking through town felt as if they were in a parade. A parade of two people and a crowd of hopeful eyes.
The heir to the throne meeting up with a suitor on her own will after a hundred rejections. Hope for the future of the kingdom.
A ping of guilt hit Amity. After a few weeks, they’d notice her absence, send parties out, come back empty handed.
The kingdom would be in ruins, her parents furious. Of course, they had the twins. But announcing which twin would reign and what to do with the other was the reason the king and queen had another kid to begin with. So they wouldn’t have to split the beloved twins. Make one more important than the other.
Amity relished in the thought. The twins always poked at her, tattling on her to their nannies. For once it would be nice to see what they would do in her position. To feel the weight she was forced to carry since birth. A phantom crown on her head.
Stone paths surrounded by tall builds cleared to dirt roads engulfed by a forest of trees. Amity spared one glance back, watching the castle grow further and further with each step.
The life she had always known, all back in the busy kingdom of Selene. Her friends, if few, left behind. Her siblings, unaware she will never return. Her parents, congratulating her on a fake event. Her kingdom, left with two sets of matching hands to hold.
She looks back down to the mare and the road ahead, sighing heavily. “Alright, Ghost, this is it.”
Two figures sped off the dirt road, deeper into the thick brush and silent trees.