Roar (Stormheart #1)(18)
“I was. I didn’t want to see him, so I pretended to be asleep.”
“Your Highness, you must know I would never encourage anything untoward—”
Rora waved off her concern. “That doesn’t matter. I’d rather know what information you gave him.”
Nova froze, her face twisting with fear. “Please, I did not want to tell him.”
“Tell him what?”
Nova’s fists clenched again, and she shook her head sharply.
Rora asked, “Do you hate me that much? That you would side with him over me?”
“Hate you? I could never hate you, Rora. And I’m siding with myself. The place he’s going … it’s illegal. I would be in a great deal of trouble if anyone knew it was I who directed him there. Or if Cassius found out I told.”
Illegal? Maybe the way out of this marriage had just fallen into her lap. If she could prove Cassius was unfit to be king, perhaps her mother would consider other alternatives.
“I need to follow him.” Rora spun for her wardrobe, intent on finding some kind of disguise.
“No. Absolutely not. You can’t.”
“I can. You mentioned the servants’ storm shelter. I’m guessing that’s how he’s getting out of the palace.” They’d used that exit so many times as children it was hardly a secret anymore.
Rora searched through her wardrobe until she found a plain brown traveling cloak at the back. It used to belong to her brother, a keepsake she had secreted away as a child. It would be too large, but it was the only thing plain enough not to draw attention. As she began pulling it over the nightgown she wore, Nova rushed over. “Your Highness, please don’t do this. It’s not safe.”
“Neither is spending my life married to that man. I’m going no matter what you say. So you can help me or you can leave.”
“I am going to regret this,” Nova murmured, wringing her hands. “At least hide your hair. The color is too recognizable to risk some of it slipping out from the cloak.” She braided Rora’s hair and twisted it up into a bun. Then she covered it with a cream-colored scarf wrapped in a traditional Taraanese style. Rora shoved her feet into a nice pair of boots and hoped the cloak would cover them. She risked missing him if she took any longer, so she moved for the door.
“I’ll go with you,” Nova offered.
“No. If it truly is dangerous, I’ll not risk you for my recklessness.”
“It’s not as though we have not done reckless things together for most of our lives.”
Rora smiled and took hold of the girl’s hand. “I have missed that more than you will ever know. But this is something I have to do on my own.”
Rora set off for the servants’ wing in the quickest walk she could manage without drawing attention. Shortcuts allowed her to avoid palace guards, and in record time Rora was standing before the entrance to the storm shelter. She scurried down the stairs into the dark.
The servants’ shelter was merely a long empty room, whereas the royal shelter had elegant fixtures and furniture and even a few beds. Rora did not dare light a sconce as she walked through the shelter. Eventually, out of the darkness formed the shape of a familiar set of stairs that led to the outside. She opened the cellar door enough to slip out and then softly set it back into place. On the darkened street that ran along the palace wall, things became trickier. Cassius might have beat her here. She could head in the direction of the main road and hope she caught up to him. Or … she could assume that she changed quickly and took enough shortcuts to arrive ahead of him. She was still considering her options when the door behind her creaked open. She pulled the hood forward to hide her face as much as possible and began walking slowly toward the main road. She hunched and shuffled as if she were an old woman, then peered back briefly over her shoulder.
The newcomer wore a wide-brimmed hat angled to cover his face and a black traveling cloak. His height and build matched Cassius, and he walked with the same calm confidence. She continued her slow gait, and eventually he passed her. Rora waited until he was a decent length ahead of her, and then she dropped the act and followed as quietly and inconspicuously as possible.
As they neared the city’s center, the streets became less deserted. Two people huddled in a small alley. A shadowed form darkened a doorway. A group of men stood outside a seedy tavern, their voices loud and slurred, discussing the earlier skyfire storm as if they’d fought it themselves. Even in her disguise, a few people eyed her as she passed.
She began to worry that the possibility of getting caught by Cassius wasn’t her only concern. She had left the palace often; she did it regularly for her early-morning rides and for the occasional royal tour through the city. But that was along the main road that led directly from the palace gate to the city gate. It was well paved and well lit, and could be seen by guards patrolling atop both the palace and city walls. Now she was truly on her own.
When she looked away from the group of drunk men, Cassius was gone. Panicked, she launched into a jog, scanning alleyways and side streets for his silhouette. She saw what might have been a black cloak disappearing around the bend of a dark, twisting street. She hesitated. If she were wrong, the trail would go cold.
Trusting her gut, Rora darted down the street, unnerved by the darkness that lurked around her. The buildings grew more dilapidated, and up ahead a lone figure strolled down the street. Occasionally he stopped, peered into a building or down another street, and then continued on. The neighborhood grew rougher as they plunged deeper into the city—a city that was decidedly less pristine and prosperous than the one she always saw on the royal tours.