When we came to where the passageway branched off, Taryn chose the left without hesitation. I understood why she would have been unsure without being able to see where she was going. The left branch was unobtrusive; it would have been easy to miss in the dark.
We didn’t walk too far when Taryn stopped again at a blank stone wall. She felt along the wall, squinting in the dim light for something. Once she found what she was looking for, she nodded in satisfaction. She flipped a latch and, to my surprise, the wall popped open slightly. It was a hidden door, so skillfully made it blended into the castle facade.
Taryn turned to me. “We need to get you changed into something less conspicuous.”
Nodding, I untethered the ball of light so it hung in the air just above our heads. Taryn helped me out of the heavy red gown and into the plain dress she had been carrying. I exchanged my fancy slippers for the sturdier, more practical leather boots. Taryn also undid my hair, pulling out the pins so it flowed freely down my back.
“I’ve packed a comb and ribbons for you, but it’s not worth going through your pack to find them,” Taryn said quietly. “But fortunately, it’s dark enough out—and I have one more thing to disguise you.” She bundled up my finery in her arms and put her hand on the unlatched door. “Your Highness, please extinguish your light.”
I swallowed my instinctive question and instead held my hand out to the light, willing it to tether to my hand again. Once it reconnected, I placed my left hand, palm down, over my right. The light winked out.
In a low voice, Taryn said, “Wait here, Your Highness. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to proceed.”
Barely breathing, afraid of making any sound, I whispered, “All right.”
Taryn opened the stone door just enough so that she could slip her slender frame through it. The door closed behind her, but not completely. I could make out the tiniest sliver of fading light through its crack. As I waited impatiently, I clenched and released my fists repeatedly.
The door opened a little wider. Taryn’s face filled the frame. She motioned for me to follow her.
I stepped clear of the stone door and Taryn, with a little effort, pushed it shut behind me. The door became a nondescript castle wall once again. My eyes slowly adjusted to the semi-dark outside the castle. The moon shone overhead, but the cloudy night obscured its light somewhat.
Taryn shifted her weight as she pulled the long cloak from the pile of clothes she carried. She handed me the pack and the cloak, whispering, “Wear the pack, and then put on the cloak. Pull the hood up.”
I did as she instructed. Taryn bundled up the dress and shoes tighter and started across the grounds. I did my best to keep up with her pace, but with the laden pack on my back, and in such an awkward position, I found myself hunching over with an uneven stride.
We kept to the shadows, moving as silently as we could. Well, Taryn moved silently. I was sure the entire palace guard could hear me stomping across the grass and gravel. But, even with my less-than-princess grace, we miraculously made it to the edge of the palace grounds. Beyond would be the path to town and freedom.
Just when I thought we were free and clear, a voice to our right commanded, “Stop.”
***
I froze, my heart pounding. This was it. We were caught. Taryn would be sacked, or worse, thrown into the dungeon. I would be returned to the palace, locked in my room until the wedding. I would be married to that hateful Prince Anders and—
Taryn calmly turned to the guard who now blocked our way. “Evening, sir,” she said politely.
“State your business,” the guard said.
“We’re ladies-in-waiting to Princess Jennica,” Taryn said. “We’re going into town to bring this—” she indicated the bundle in her arms "—to the seamstress Kellen to be fixed.”
“Now? At this time of night?” the guard eyed us suspiciously.
Taryn sighed, putting just the right touch of long-suffering servant into her voice. “Unfortunately, yes. It’s her intended’s favorite dress, and he wants her to wear it again tomorrow night. So she told us to have it fixed immediately. But it’s beyond my simple skill, which is why I have to go into town and bother poor Kellen for her services. Kellen will grumble, but at least the king will pay double the usual amount for her trouble.”
“Royalty!” the guard said, clicking his tongue in sympathy.
“Don’t I know it!” Taryn agreed. She and the guard chuckled in mutual understanding.
I didn’t know what I was more curious about—Taryn’s skill in charming the guard, or if all those in our employ gossiped about us in such unfavorable terms, and how often.
“Go on, then,” the guard said, shooing us away. “Good luck with your errand.”
“Thank you, sir,” Taryn said. We hurried away.
When we were safely on the road to the town with no one around to hear us, I said, “Taryn, I am impressed! I had no idea you were so skilled at prevaricating.”
“The best lies have a bit of truth in them,” she said with a shrug.
“It does make me wonder … have you ever used that skill on me?”
Taryn laughed. “I don’t think there’s a good way for me to answer that,” she chided me. “If I say no, you may still wonder if I’m telling the truth. If I say yes, then you’ll lose sleep worrying which of my words it was.”
She was right, but it didn’t dampen my curiosity. “All right, then, if you won’t tell me that … do all servants gossip about the royal family the way you and the guard did just now?”
Taryn didn’t answer right away. I suppose it was a naive question. Of course servants would gossip about us, just as we royals gossiped about the people in our lives. But I had never thought about it much. Our servants were people, of course, but … they were just servants. I never thought of them having lives and thoughts and feelings of their own.
“Your Highness, it’s always been a pleasure to serve you,” Taryn finally answered. “And although I am your lady-in-waiting, I also consider you my friend, even though we’ve never addressed it directly. I would hope you consider me yours.”
“Of course, Taryn! You’ve done more for me tonight than some of the nobles I’ve grown up with.”
“Anything I’ve ever said about you to others has only been the highest praise. But, yes, people talk. And sometimes, it’s the invisible people who know the most.”
I mulled over her words as we continued our walk to town.
***
We made it to the town without any other trouble. The house of Taryn’s older brother, Rufan, was mostly dark, with one lone candle shining in the window. When Taryn knocked quietly on the door, it opened immediately. We slipped inside and the door closed behind us. In the darkness, I heard a bar fall into place on the door, shutting us in completely.
The candle from the window moved, appearing in the hand of a tall, muscular man. It illuminated Rufan’s drawn face. He put a finger to his lips and pointed upstairs, indicating we should all speak quietly.
“We thought you weren’t coming,” he told his sister. “When you didn’t make it in time for dinner, we assumed you were caught up at the palace and weren’t going to be able to visit tonight.”
She reached up and gave him a quick hug. “I’m sorry,” she said. “We had some delays trying to leave the palace.”
“We?”
Taryn stepped to the side, revealing me behind her. Rufan gasped, then bowed low. Abashed, he said, “Forgive me, Your Highness, for not greeting you properly. Welcome to our humble home. We are honored by your presence. Let me wake up my wife, and we’ll prepare—”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, waving away his offer of hospitality. “These are strange circumstances.”
“Circumstances, Your Highness?” Rufan looked from me to his sister uncertainly.
“Rufan, I’m so sorry to put you in this position, but we need a place to stay for the night,” Taryn explained.
“The palace is not sufficient?”
“Let’s just say, the less questions you ask, the better it will be,” Taryn said.
Rufan looked troubled, but nodded slowly. “I trust you, sister. Were you followed?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Good.” He gestured down the darkened hallway. “Come, then, and make yourself comfortable, Your Highness.”
He held the candle higher and led us farther into the house, where he lit a small lamp and blew out the candle.
As we followed, I commented to Taryn, “I daresay, once I left the palace, I’m no longer a princess.”
“You’ll always be a princess,” Taryn said, warmly. “But in a sense, you’re right. It would be dangerous for you to be addressed or treated as such from here on out.”
Yet another odd thing to get used to, but I would have to adapt. No time like the present.
“Then I guess I’m just Jennica now,” I said, a bit sadly. “No more Your Highness or Princess.”
“Begging your pardon, Your Highness,” Taryn said. “But you might want to use a different name. Your given name is too recognizable, and it would be sure to get back to King Hendon if you used it.”
“Good point, Taryn.” I thought a minute. “What about Allayne? Since it’s one of my middle names, I’ll still answer to it.”
Taryn nodded her approval. “It’s a little old-fashioned, but much more commonly used than Jennica is.”
Rufan chimed in, “A baby girl born two weeks ago here in town was actually named Allayne. Her parents had always admired the stories.”
“Perfect, then. Allayne it is.” I felt a twinge at having yet another part of my normal life stripped away. But at the same time, being able to choose my own name felt strangely exhilarating. Like Princess Jennica was one person, and Allayne was someone else. And Allayne could be anyone she wanted to be.
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