“And I am on strict orders from Her Majesty the Queen of Aboria that no one is to see the king--not even you.” Griswold crossed his arms and widened his stance to cover more of the hallway as if I couldn’t outmaneuver an old man if I wanted to. “You can take it up with her when she returns, otherwise, please return to your chambers at once.”
Shifting my weight from foot to foot, I pondered the value of challenging Griswold. He'd served this castle far longer than anyone else and I doubted a temper tantrum would persuade him to let me get my way. His loyalty to my family seemed superhuman, but it didn't mean that it didn't disrupt my plans on occasion. Unfortunately, today was one of these occasions.
"Fine." I tossed my hands in the air and retreated, Griswold's ever-watchful eye weighed down on the back of my head as I stormed down the hall to my room. I slammed the door and leaned against the wooden panels, banging my head so that it echoed like the knock of an unwanted guest.
Griswold might have my mother's wishes at heart, but it didn't mean I actually had to listen.
I dressed quickly in casual grey pants and a loose white shirt, hoping to pass as one of the servants from a distance and peeked back out into the hallway. An eerie stillness radiated through the stone corridor, not a footstep or even a whisper, just a strange nothingness. Instead of risking another confrontation, I slipped down the hall heading east and into my mother's library. The rich heavy scent of parchment and ink wafted out as I opened the door and carefully shut it again without a sound. Like always, I scanned the grand bookcases from the floor to the ceiling as if the books could see me. As if they stood guard and recorded all the things that had come and gone in this room and whispered about it to each other when no one was looking. Hopefully, they wouldn't tell on me this time.
Closing my eyes, I searched my memory for the combination. The sing-song of one of the greatest weapons royalty had--an escape plan.
Three Aborian maidens fair,
with silvery voices and golden hair.
Wandered into the wood one day,
left the path and lost their way.
They met a group of goblins five,
then only two maidens came out alive.
Perfect. Three shelves up, one book to the left, five books to the right, knock two times, then pull. I followed the directions and as the second knock died in the silence of the library, the bookshelf creaked open to the secret passageway hidden behind. I grabbed the lantern on the edge of my mother's mahogany desk and slipped through the opening, closing the door behind me. Ducking my head as the passageway narrowed, I followed the pathways down under the belly of the castle. So many times I'd snuck down here to avoid the lessons taught by my army of tutors—not one bold enough to tell my parents the truth about my lack of academic interest. Instead, I would head east, out to the edge of the forest and to my freedom. Except now I headed west, back into what disaster I didn't know. Besides, after a while, no one stopped me as I came and went from the castle anymore so secret passages lost their usefulness.
I followed the turns as they led deeper into the darkness, the damp stone pathways worn and foreboding as I neared the west wing, the heavy weight bearing down on my ribs growing more heft with each step. Inhaling the musty air, I took one last deep breath before charging up the narrow stone steps to the top floor, the walls tighter than I remembered as a boy. A sliver of light cut through the break in the wall at the top of the stairs, marking a jagged lightening-shaped line across the floor. Almost there. One last chance to turn back and listen to Griswold and my mother for once. But since when did I ever do what I was told?
Thick spider webs filled the single handhold to pull back the passageway door, but I slipped my hand into my sleeve first then yanked hard, the door groaning as it awoke from its slumber. I peeked out to find the hallway empty and emerged into the fourth-floor hall tucked behind a menacing stone lion statue, concealing the passage from anyone who might happen on it by accident. I set the lantern on the floor and started to slip the door back into place.
Crash.
I jumped and slammed the door shut. A loud boom echoed off the arched castle ceilings. I grabbed the lantern, concealing it with my body as I pressed behind the statue. Footsteps fell in the distance but disappeared until I wasn't certain I'd even heard them at all. I slipped out and the lion's side-eye glared down at me, the majestic stone creature likely disgusted by harboring such a coward.
At the end of the hall, I creaked open the door to my father's chambers, the outside vestibule looked ready for war with all the furniture piled along the far wall. Delicate wooden tables from Elder and intricate metalwork from The Forge cast aside as if they were cheap toys instead of one of a kind antiques. Through the second door, my boots crunched on shards of glass and splinters of wood sprinkled across the floor. Paintings sat torn and tattered along the walls mixed with a pile of bedclothes and tapestries. All around broken tables and chairs littered this battlefield and I ran my hands along the thick black marks on the walls from where they must have been launched into like cannonballs, the grit from chipped stone catching in my fingernails.
A deep sigh emanated from the far corner of the room, the sadness so thick I felt it cloud around me before the actual sound hit my ears.
