The air in the palace felt different now—thicker like the walls themselves were watching us. Every step we took seemed to carry more weight, and the tension between Dorian and me grew with every passing second. I could feel it—a shift, a change, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for it.
We moved quickly through the narrow halls, Dorian still pulling me along. His hand was firm on my wrist, but there was something more in his eyes now—something deeper, darker. He wasn't just trying to save me. No, he was trying to protect something bigger than that.
"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice low and barely above a whisper, though I knew the walls had ears.
Dorian didn't answer immediately. He glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one was following us. "We need to get you out of the palace," he said finally, his voice tight with urgency. "There are places where you'll be safe. We'll be far from here, where no one can find us."
But even as he said those words, I could feel the doubt creeping in. Could I trust him? How could I leave everything I knew behind? The palace was all I had ever known, and even though it had been suffocating, it was still my home.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice shaking slightly. "Why are you helping me?"
Dorian stopped suddenly, turning to face me with an intensity that nearly knocked the breath out of me. "Because you don't understand what's at stake. This isn't just about you. It's about your father and everything he left behind. And if you want to survive this, you need to understand that you're not just a pawn anymore."
His words hit me hard. I had always felt like a pawn, a piece in someone else's game. But now, for the first time, Dorian was telling me I had a choice—though that choice seemed like it might come with a heavy price.
"Your father had enemies. Powerful ones. And they won't stop until they've erased everything he built. That includes you," Dorian continued, his voice growing darker with each word. "You're the last living piece of a dynasty they've been trying to bury for years. And now that you're alive, you've become a symbol—a threat to everything they've worked for."
I felt the weight of his words settle in my chest like lead. The pieces were slowly starting to come together. My father hadn't just been a king; he had been a target. And I, his daughter, had been the unwitting heir to his enemies' fury.
"Why didn't anyone tell me?" I asked, my voice a mix of anger and hurt. "Why didn't they tell me the truth?"
"Because they needed you to be weak," Dorian replied, his voice low, full of regret. "They wanted you to stay ignorant, to keep you from realizing who you really are. But now it's too late. You're already a part of this game, whether you like it or not."
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "So what now?" I asked. "What happens next?"
Dorian didn't answer immediately. Instead, he turned and started walking again, his footsteps echoing off the stone floor. I followed him, my mind racing. I didn't know what to do with this newfound information, or how to process it. All my life, I had been told one story, one version of the truth. But now, everything I knew was being turned on its head.
"We leave," Dorian said finally. "We go to a place where you'll be safe, where we can regroup and plan our next move. I'm not leaving you behind, not when I know the truth."
I wanted to ask him more questions, to demand answers, but I didn't. There were too many unknowns. The only thing I knew for sure was that I was in this now. There was no going back.
We reached the back door of the palace and stepped out into the cold night air. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a soft glow over the garden. It was eerily quiet, but I could sense something was wrong. The peace felt too temporary.
Dorian looked around, his eyes scanning the darkness. "Stay close," he said. "We don't know how long we have before they realize you're gone."
I nodded, my heart racing as we moved toward the shadows of the garden. The silence seemed to stretch for miles, but I could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. I had no idea where we were going, only that I needed to keep moving.
As we reached the edge of the garden, I heard a rustling sound behind us. My heart leapt into my throat, and I turned to see a figure emerging from the shadows. My body tensed, ready for a fight. But when I saw who it was, I froze.
It was Isabella, the palace's head servant and one of the few people I trusted in this place. She was panting, her face flushed with fear.
"They're coming," she said breathlessly. "They've already realized you're gone. We need to leave. Now."
Dorian's jaw tightened. "We don't have much time."
Isabella looked at me, her eyes filled with both fear and determination. "You've got to go. They'll come after you, and they won't stop until they've found you. You have to be ready for what's coming."
"Isabella," I said, my voice trembling. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to survive this."
She stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You don't have to do it alone. You have people who care about you. People who will help you fight."
Dorian stepped in, his eyes hard. "But you'll have to trust us. Trust me."
Isabella nodded, her expression resolute. "I do. I always have."