CHAPTER 9: A Favor

  I rocked gently in the wooden chair, listening to its soft squeak and letting myself drift with the rhythm of it. Back and forth... Back and forth.

  Eight-month-old Eli rested sleepily against my shoulder, his favorite blue blanket tucked under his arm. His little fingers—always moving—twirled the jewels on my necklace, spinning them over and over between his tiny fingers.

  He was such a cuddly baby. He never missed a chance to snuggle into me, and I never turned away the comfort. Maybe it was the soft songs I hummed, or the way I played with his brown hair, or maybe he simply liked being held. Whatever the reason, I soaked in every second.

  We had both grown so much these past months. And of all the things my parents could’ve refused… they had let me take him in. That alone felt like a miracle.

  Though I suspected Ares had pushed hardest for it. He’d argued how difficult it had been for my mother to conceive—how that problem might follow me—and that taking in a child wasn’t the worst idea for an heir.

  But once I married Archibald, Eli would stay behind—raised, tutored, shaped into a future ruler. I would visit often, write as much as I could, even though he couldn’t read yet. At least until he was old enough to come to me… or until I found a way out of Archibald’s grasp.

  I sighed, resting my cheek on Eli’s soft hair. His fingers had stilled, a tiny snore escaping him. I closed my eyes as the frustration washed over me again.

  Earlier this morning, I’d been dragged through the final wedding preparations, and I’d loathed every minute of it. My mother pulled me from my last dress fitting to the seating arrangements for the reception feast, all the way to listening to auditions for the orchestra.

  I didn’t care. Not even a little.

  Every choice I had felt wrong. Every possible escape was tangled with uncertainty.

  And I was so, so tired.

  I hadn’t slept well the night before. A dream—faded now, but unsettling—lingered on my nerves. Something about Eli. And the dragons. The same dread I’d felt after the most recent raid had settled in my chest all over again.

  Of all the raids I had experienced in my lifetime, it had been the bloodiest.

  My heart was still reeling from the past few days. Even with Ares at my side, something in me wouldn’t settle.

  Maybe it was guilt.

  Maybe it was Damien.

  Maybe it was both.

  I still loved Damien in a way that hurt—like a bruise pressed too many times. Letting him go hadn’t been simple, even though he’d let go of me long before I ever admitted it.

  Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was everything piling together. But I felt restless. Trapped.

  And though I loved my kingdom, with all its seasons and wandering miles… it still felt like a cage. I longed for adventure, like the stories I read. To see the world with my own eyes instead of through ink on a page.

  I even thought about running away sometimes—just for a day or two.

  A soft knock startled Eli, who flinched in my arms. I rubbed his back gently, soothing him back too sleep as I stood to answer the door.

  When I opened it, my throat went dry. “Damien,” I whispered, careful not to wake Eli.

  He stared at me for what felt like a long moment, his mouth opening—closing—trying to speak.

  “Is everything alright?” I asked, worry curling in my chest.

  “Yes— I mean… no.”

  His eyes lowered to the floor. “I know you’d rather not speak to me. But I need a moment. I have something important to tell you. Something time-sensitive.”

  I raised an eyebrow, but stepped aside. He entered quietly, and I led him back to the rocking chair while he took the seat across from me.

  “What is going on?” I asked, my curiosity sharpening. I glanced at his bruised eye—swollen and mottled with sickly colors. My stomach twisted.

  Damien pressed his lips into a thin line. His usually steady hands rubbed together nervously, unable to keep still.

  “Ares told me about the legend you found,” he said. “The one about dragons—and the bond formed if you save one from the brink of death.”

  “Yes,” I said slowly. “What of it?”

  “I didn’t kill it.”

  The words escaped him in a rush, like they burned on the way out.

  “Wh—”

  “I injured the dragon,” he said quickly. “Enough that we crash-landed.”

  My breath caught. “You told everyone you killed it. Have you lost your mind, Damien?”

  I kept my voice low—Eli was still sleeping on my shoulder—but the anger simmered hot beneath the surface.

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  “I know, I know.” Damien squeezed his eyes shut. “Can we forget that for a moment? I hit my head when we crashed. I didn’t stay to finish the job…”

  I fell silent, studying him. “You think it’s still alive?”

  He tilted his head from side to side. “Maybe. I don’t know. But if it is… and you heal it, you might have a way out of marrying Archibald. Jade, forget whatever army you think you need. A dragon—especially one that size—owing you a debt? Thule wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  I looked away.

  Hope didn’t flicker inside me— It fluttered. Like a swarm of butterflies taking flight.

  But just as quickly, the feeling slipped away.

  “Even if I found the dragon, how would I heal it?” I whispered. “It’s been days. It’s probably dead… or healed and plotting revenge. And I can’t make one serve me. Humans have done enough damage already.”

  His sigh came sharp and frustrated. “When are you going to take the reins of your life and fight?”

  Guilt piled heavy on my chest as he stood in a huff. When had he grown so cruel? Or maybe… maybe it hurt because he wasn’t entirely wrong. I had a chance—dangerous, reckless, impossible—but a light at the end of the tunnel nonetheless. And I was finding excuses.

  Damien’s face tightened, like he regretted the words the moment they left his mouth.

  “Where did you land?” I murmured.

  He glanced over his shoulder, long and weary. “I don’t remember… South, I think. I came in from the south. I blacked out at the gate—some of the pieces are still missing.”

  I resumed rocking, the chair creaking under me, my mind racing with the tiny spark of hope blooming in my chest.

  If I had earned the trust of one dragon… maybe I could do it again.

  I let the idea settle.

  I could pack a bag. Slip away. Spend my last weeks of freedom near Opal Lake. If I was lucky enough to find the dragon—Two birds, one stone.

  “Damien…” I called softly as he reached the door.

  He paused, his face drawn, almost defeated.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  A smirk tugged at his mouth, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He slipped out without another word.

  Maybe I’d misunderstood him. Maybe I should’ve let him explain what happened the night of the festival. Maybe I’d been too harsh—especially knowing how far apart we’d grown.

  But there was another problem. I wasn’t allowed to visit the lake unless Ares and Damien came with me. The lake lay miles south, outside the central walls—“too dangerous for the soul heir of Elsinora,” father said. So going alone was impossible.

  Except…

  If I could reach it safely, I would be fine. More than fine. I could camp, breathe, think. Swim in peace. Just me.

  My heart ached for that kind of freedom. The more I thought about it, the more desirable it became. I just had to sneak out. But… how? The borders were patrolled constantly.

  If I encountered the dragon, I’d have to do it alone. I couldn’t risk anyone provoking it—not even Ares or Damien. Their hatred of dragons ran too deep, and neither would grant me solitude.

  Madeline slipped into the room quietly, fresh sheets tucked under her arm.

  “Oh—darn. He’s asleep,” she whispered, spotting Eli. “I went all the way to grab his toy horse.” She set the wooden figurine on the table—a knight astride a steed, sword raised triumphantly. It was painted to look just like Damien, blond hair and blue eyes immortalized in miniature.

  And just like that, an idea struck.

  “He was ready for a nap,” I said softly, pressing a kiss to Eli’s head.

  “Madeline… I have a favor to ask.”

  ??????

  “Who goes there?” a male voice called as the cart rattled to a stop.

  “Uh—Ma… Madison, sir,” Madeline answered from the driver’s seat.

  I sat beneath a large brown cloth in the back, buried among herb bundles and gardening tools—hidden from sight, hopefully hidden from suspicion.

  “What business have you leaving Elsinora at this hour?”

  His armor clinked as he circled the cart, boots scraping over the cobblestones. A torchlight glow flickered through the fabric above me.

  “Gathering herbs for the head mage, sir,” Madeline said.

  “This late?”

  She hesitated. “Yes… some bloom only after sunset.” Her confidence wobbled like a loose wagon wheel.

  “What’s in the cart?” he asked.

  “Harvesting tools.”

  “I’ll need to take a look.”

  His hand dipped beneath the cloth—landing just above my knee.

  I gasped softly and clapped a hand over my mouth. My entire body went rigid.

  “Oh—my word…” Madeline blurted.

  The guard froze. “What? Is something wrong?”

  “No, no, I just—” Madeline let out a breathy laugh. “I think I saw you at the party last night.”

  The guard shifted. “Me?”

  “Yes, you,” she giggled, laying it on thick. “A handsome face like yours, ought to be remembered.”

  Silence stretched. I prayed—desperately—that he was flattered. Or vain. Or just young and foolish enough.

  “You had the-…”

  “The feathered hat?” he asked hopefully.

  “Yes!” Madeline gasped. “That was it! You, sir… you’ve occupied my thoughts all day.”

  His hand left the cart. I exhaled quietly.

  “Well… perhaps we should get to know each other,” he said, clearly pleased with himself.

  “I think my dreams are coming true.” Madeline’s voice dripped flirtation as he stepped closer.

  “And mine,” he replied. “Are you free after your harvest?”

  Madeline giggled sweetly. “Mmm, perhaps.”

  “Raise the gate!” he called.

  Chains clattered, gears groaned, and the wrought-iron gate lifted with a deep metallic cry.

  Madeline snapped the reins, and the horse lurched forward. I silently promised I would buy her a new dress for this. A whole collection. An entire shop. She had risked herself for me—and apparently agreed to a date with a stranger.

  We traveled half a mile into the dense forest before she finally pulled the cart off the road. Safe enough.

  I climbed out, lifting the cloth away, and hurried to her. “I owe you my life,” I said, wrapping my arms around her tightly. “I can’t believe you did that for me.”

  She hugged me back, rocking us side to side. “After everything you have done for me...you deserve some peace, Jade.”

  “But now you have to—”

  “He was cute,” she giggled. “It’s not a total loss. And thank the stars there was a new guard—I never would’ve gotten Bone through otherwise.”

  Bone let out a soft whinny at his name. I turned to my white-dappled shire, his reins tied to a fallen log. He tossed his head and stamped his feet—his usual greeting.

  “Hey, Bone,” I said softly, walking a few steps closer to his side and stroking his muzzle.

  I remembered him as a tiny, unwanted colt at the auction—too small, too overlooked, destined for slaughter if unsold. I had begged my father for him, tears and all. To everyone’s surprise, he agreed. I broke Bone in myself, though he stayed stubborn. And ended up far stronger than anyone expected.

  “Good boy,” I breathed to him.

  I rummaged through my satchel, checking everything twice.

  Water. Medicine. Bandages. My dragon journal. Bread and cheese. A knife. Flint and steel. Blanket, pillow, spare clothes.

  I saddled Bone and filled his side bags. “I think I have everything.”

  “You sure about this?” Madeline asked softly.

  I nodded—hesitant, but buzzing with a new kind of excitement. I’d never been alone before. And the woods held more dangers than I could count—trolls, ogres, wolves… and worse. But still.

  “Ares won’t like it,” she warned. “They’ll come looking for you.”

  “I know. Let them search. I’ll stay near the lake. If I do that, I’ll have at least a day or two to myself.”

  “And if you get into trouble?”

  “I packed some of Ares’s magic paper. I’ll write to you,” I said, taking her hands.

  Tears burned my eyes. “Take good care of Eli for me.”

  “I will, Jade. I promise.”

  “I’ll be back before Archibald arrives.”

  She gave me a sad smile and pulled me in again. “Write me every morning and every night at least, so I know you’re safe.”

  I hugged her tightly. “I promise. I still can’t believe you’re letting me go.”

  Madeline laughed shakily. “Don’t get me wrong—I’m terrified. But you taking a risk? One that might save you from Archibald?” She cupped my arm gently. “I’m going to encourage that.”

  I smiled—small, grateful, anxious, but hopeful.