The man didn't seem to like her rebellious tone. His expression hardened as he took another step toward her, his rough hand brushing the hilt of the dagger at his side. "You've got a sharp tongue for someone walking out alone at this hour," he said, his voice low and gravelly, each word carrying a thinly veiled threat.
Liriel's heart thudded in her chest. She clenched her trembling hands into fists at her sides, willing herself to stay calm. Her defensive attitude had always been her downfall, yet she couldn't back down now—it would only make her look weak.
"I don't think I need your permission to leave," she said, her voice as steady as she could make it, though even to her own ears, the words felt unconvincing. "My father's waiting outside, excuse me"
The man smirked, his yellowed teeth glinting under the dim glow of the tavern lanterns. "Is he now?" he asked in mocking tone. Behind him, two more men with equally rough appearances rose from their seats, their gazes sharp as they sauntered closer.
Liriel's pulse quickened. The exit was just a few steps away, but the growing crowd felt like a wall between her and freedom. Her mind raced, desperate to find a way out of this without drawing more attention.
Before she could respond, a waiter in a worn apron stepped between her and the bearded man, holding up his hands as if to de-escalate the situation. "Sir, leave her be," he said in firm but polite voice. He turned to Liriel, his tone softening. "Miss, your father checked out earlier. He said he'd be waiting just outside the gates. You should hurry along."
The tension in the air shifted, but it didn't completely dissipate. The bearded man muttered something under his breath and glanced at the man seated in the corner table of tavern before he stepped back, his buddies hesitated but followed suit. Liriel shot the waiter a small, grateful nod and made her way toward the door, her steps brisk but careful as her heart still hammered in her chest.
As soon as she stepped outside, the cool night air hit her like a wave, and she exhaled a shaky breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. The inn's gate loomed ahead, its wooden frame illuminated by the faint glow of a distant lantern. She quickened her pace with her eyes darting around as she scanned the area.
Outside the inn's gate, a handful of carriages were parked in a line. Lanterns hung from three of them, casting warm light in the dark, but one carriage sat farther back, its lantern unlit. Suspicion prickled at the back of her neck but she approached it cautiously, her eyes darting around for a second for any sign of her father.
Stopping just a step away, she cleared her throat and spoke quietly, "Is anyone here?"
For a moment, there was no response. Then, the carriage door creaked open, and a man stepped out. He was tall, sharp-featured, and dressed in a dark cloak that blended almost seamlessly with the night. His piercing eyes fixed on her without blinking.
"What do you want?" he asked, his voice low and smooth but carried an edge of authority.
Liriel swallowed hard and held up the token. "This—this is yours, right?" she said, her voice faltered slightly.
The man's gaze dropped to the token, his expression shifting ever so slightly before he snatched it from her hand. For a brief moment, his gaze lingered on her face, as if committing it to memory. Then, without a word, he disappeared into the shadows, so quickly and quietly that it left her wondering if he'd ever been there at all.
Liriel exhaled shakily, her fingers curling into her palm as she turned back toward the gate. She'd done her part. Whatever happened now was beyond her control. Now, she just needed to find her father and get as far from the inn as possible. Her eyes scanned the area near the gates, but there was no sign of him.
The inn loomed behind her, its flickering lanterns casting long, twisting shadows across the cobblestone road. The air felt heavy, thick with the promise of violence. Her mind raced as fragments of the book she'd read pieced themselves together.
She knew who was behind all this.
The prince had two personal guards, but one of them harbored a deep grudge against him. The man had disguised himself as a loyal protector, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Tonight, with the other guard conveniently left behind at the palace, he had drugged the prince with a paralytic, leaving him vulnerable for the assassins waiting in the shadows.
Laura hadn't been so lucky. She had tried to warn him in the original story, but by the time she reached him, he had been too far gone. The assassins had struck her first, and though Lucian managed to hold them off for a time, he'd suffered a grave injury, losing hearing in one ear as a result. It had only been the arrival of reinforcements—summoned by the man in the carriage—that saved him.
But now, Liriel had changed the course of events. There wouldn't be a rescue, because Lucian wasn't left to fend for himself.
A sudden burst of noise from the inn shattered her thoughts. The sound of shouting and clashing steel echoed faintly through the night. Liriel's heart leaped into her throat. She ducked behind the carriage, pressing her body against its cold frame as she peeked cautiously from behind its wheel. Where was her father? He should have been waiting near the gates by now
In this unfamiliar world, the knowledge that someone cared for her, even a man she barely knew but called father, gave her a sliver of courage. But that courage faltered when she saw a figure stumble out of the inn.
Her breath caught in her throat. It was a man, hunched over, clutching his stomach as he staggered forward. The faint glow of the inn's light glinted off a dark patch spreading across his tunic.
Liriel's mind screamed at her to stay hidden, but her body moved before she could think. She ran toward him, her heart pounding as her worst fears took shape.
"Father?" she called out as her voice cracked.
The man looked up, his face pale and twisted with pain. It was him. Blood seeped through his fingers as he pressed them against the wound in his abdomen.