The corridor was colder than before. As we hurried through the dimly lit passage, the footsteps behind us grew louder and louder. Dorian's grip on my wrist tightened, his pace quickening. Every step felt like a countdown, and I could feel my heart racing in time with his.
"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper as we rounded a corner.
"Somewhere safe," he replied, not slowing down. "For now."
His words didn't reassure me. There was no such thing as "safe" in the palace—not with what was at stake. The decree in my hands still burned in my memory. The daughter of a fallen king, to be eliminated at all costs. I couldn't comprehend it. Who could have written such a thing? Who wanted me dead, and why?
Dorian led me down a narrow staircase, past old, unused rooms. His movements were precise, and calculated, but there was a quiet urgency in his actions. It wasn't until we reached the bottom of the stairs that he finally stopped.
He turned to face me, his expression unreadable. "You need to understand something," he said, his voice low and steady. "This isn't just about you anymore. It's bigger than that."
I swallowed hard. "Bigger than me? How could it be bigger than me?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, his eyes flicked over his shoulder, checking the darkened corners of the corridor as if expecting someone to appear. Then, he took a slow step closer. His face was inches from mine now, and despite the urgency of the moment, I couldn't look away. The tension between us was palpable.
"I'll explain everything once we're safe," he said, his voice barely above a murmur. "But we need to keep moving. They'll be looking for us."
Before I could respond, there was a sudden noise from the hallway behind us. A door slammed open, followed by hurried footsteps. Dorian's expression darkened, and in one fluid motion, he pulled me into a small alcove beside the stairs. I held my breath, my pulse pounding in my ears as we stood perfectly still.
The footsteps grew louder and louder. I could hear the guards talking, their voices too far to make out, but their urgency was clear.
"I thought I saw her coming this way," one of the voices said. "We can't lose her."
Dorian stiffened beside me, his eyes fixed on the door at the end of the corridor. There was no way out, no other escape route. We were trapped.
I glanced at him, my heart hammering in my chest. "What now?"
"We wait," he replied, his voice barely a whisper. His hand was still gripping mine, and I could feel his tension through the touch. "Just stay quiet."
We stood there, frozen in the silence, the distant voices of the guards growing nearer. I could feel my breath catching in my throat, the air thick with the tension of being discovered. My heart was beating so loudly I thought they'd hear it.
And then—nothing.
The voices stopped. The footsteps faded away into the distance.
Dorian exhaled slowly, releasing the breath he'd been holding. "It's clear. For now."
I pulled my hand from hihimwiping my palm against my dress to try to rid myself of the nervous sweat that had gathered. "What was that? Who were they?"
Dorian didn't answer immediately. Instead, he glanced around, making sure no one else was near. "Those are the guards loyal to the crown," he said, his voice tight. "And they're looking for you because they know what you are."
I blinked, confused. "What do you mean, 'what I am?' I'm just a servant—"
"No, you're not," Dorian interrupted, his voice firm now. "You're the daughter of the late King Aric, aren't you?"
My breath caught in my throat. King Aric. My father. The man whose name was barely whispered in the halls of this palace. The man whose death had been a mystery to me—shrouded in secrets, in lies. How did Dorian know? How could he know?
"I—I don't understand," I stammered. "My father died years ago. How could you know that?"
Dorian's gaze softened, his eyes searching mine as though weighing his words carefully. "Your father's death wasn't an accident, you know. It wasn't the illness that took him. It was a trail."
I recoiled slightly, the shock hitting me like a wave. "Betrayal? What are you talking about? What do you know about it?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he took a step closer, lowering his voice. "You're not the only one in danger because of your family's past. There are people—powerful people—who want to see the bloodline of King Aric erased. They want to finish what was started."
The weight of his words hung in the air, thick and suffocating. My knees felt weak, and I leaned against the stone wall for support. My father's death had never felt like the tragedy it should have been—too many pieces of the puzzle didn't fit. And now, in the cold, dimly lit corridor of this palace, everything started to make sense.
I was a target. Not just because of who I was, but because of what I represented. A bloodline of power, of influence that some people were desperate to erase.
"But why are you helping me?" I asked, my voice trembling. "Why would you risk everything for someone like me?"
Dorian took a step back, his expression guarded. "Because your survival is tied to mine now, whether you realize it or not."
I blinked, my confusion only deepening. "What do you mean?"
Dorian's eyes darkened. "The forces that want you gone—they won't stop until they've destroyed everything. And the only way for us both to survive is to take them down."
The intensity of his words hit me like a hammer, and I couldn't breathe for a moment. Everything I thought I knew—about my life, about my father, about the people who ruled this land—was unravelling before me. And now, Dorian Blackwood, the man who had pulled me out of danger, was telling me that our fates were linked and that my survival depended on him.
But at what cost!?