Summary: Adah Edric, a banished princess, returns home to train as a soldier, and eventually military adviser, once her brother assumes the throne. After returning to her room from a feast, she wakes up and finds the room claustrophobic, so she sneaks out the window down to the grounds.
I turn in a circle, absorbing my surroundings. I need to move soon; they do clean sweeps of the grounds throughout the night, and if I remember correctly they’ll be coming around soon. It didn’t take long for Gavin and I to learn to maneuver around the guards and their lights.
I think of all the nights Gavin and I snuck out of our rooms, past the guards, often into the woods or some other place forbidden after dark. Sometimes we’d hang out in each other’s rooms, playing cards, talking, eating smuggled deserts. Just enjoying ourselves in our then-uncomplicated lives.
I wonder if Gavin still lives in the same floor of the same tower. Since he can’t train without me, he shouldn’t be in the barracks with the rest of the soldiers-to-be, but maybe he moved. I have to find out.
Anticipation drives me past three towers, from the second to the fifth, where I spent many nights hiding out. Either the schedule changed or my sense of time is skewed, because the regular search isn’t done when I reach it. When I reach the fourth story, however, and am climbing up to the second ledge, a bright light appears. I conceal myself between the ledges and peer out; half a dozen elongated shadows are spread across the thick grass. They leave soon, though, and I’m on my way.
I pull myself onto the window ledge and stand straight, close to the glass panes. It’s hard to tell in the dark, but I squint and realize that yes, the curtains are drawn. Which normally wouldn’t mean anything, but Gavin never closed the curtains. The morning sunlight, faint as it may be from the back, was the only thing that could be counted on to wake him in the morning - he could ignore most of the alarms that were set for him, and the ones he couldn’t were so loud that they could be heard through the thick walls. But maybe he didn’t have to get up early tomorrow morning. Or maybe he just forgot they were shut. That had to be it.
I feel along the bottom of the window, looking for a near-invisible latch. My fingers strike a difference in the smooth metal and pull. I hear a tiny click. Pulling it towards me slightly to angle it the only way it doesn‘t creak, I slide the pane up, just enough to slip through.
I push past the curtains and duck into the room, keeping my feet soft. With the curtains drawn, the only light in the room comes from a wall clock with digital numbers blinking green across the floor; it’s not much, but it reveals the room’s empty. Which is another thing wrong with the situation - Gavin always slept on the couch. I never could figure out why. When I asked, he always said the bed was too empty by himself. I still don’t know if he was lying or not.
I edge into the suite, careful not to bump into any furniture. I peak into the miniature kitchen area, the bathroom, the closets, ruling out the possibility that someone’s there. Then I head to the bedroom. I’m a few feet from the door when I hear a voice - an unfamiliar voice, too stern, and much too female. My breath knocks out and I freeze.
“Michael, no. That won’t work.” A pause. “I don’t care, it’s not going to work. The whole thought is ridiculous.” Another pause - she must be on a telephone - and she speaks softer. “Look, I know you have a lot riding on this. But he’s too clever to fall for it. We need something better, something a lot more subtle. Something he won’t see coming.” Another pause - it lasts a few minutes, each of which feel like a tiny eternity in which my heart stops and restarts a hundred thousand times. “Again, no. Just - just work on it. Think of something else. We’ll talk in the morning.”
I hear her hang up, then a rustling of blankets; I have to move, have to get out before she comes. I start to back up slowly, then turn and sprint to the window silently. I hear her door open, and I slide into the cold night air, the stars my flashlight. Her footsteps get louder, nearer, and I crawl down to the second ledge, just out of view when the window slides out further. I imagine her eyes searching for any sign of me, of the intruder, but apparently she finds no one and leaves. Just as I should.
On my way back to my tower, I can’t help feeling disappointed - too disappointed, probably. I’ll see him soon - maybe even tomorrow - so why is this so bad? It’s not, not really. But it still makes my chest hurt and my throat catch.
My red hands are numb as I scale the wall, past the windows, to my story. I slip onto the second ledge and am about to pull myself to the window when something catches my eye; a white square attached to the bottom of the first ledge.
With hands shaky from both the cold and disappointment, I peel off the square, which turns out to be paper thin. On its outside is a black image, but the night blurs it. Unfolding the paper, I find words neatly scribed in block letters:
JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN’T SEE ME, DOESN’T MEAN I’M NOT THERE.
SOMETIMES, IT JUST MEANS YOU HAVE TO LOOK HARDER.
MAYBE, I’LL EVEN FIND YOU.
-THE JESTER
SOMETIMES, IT JUST MEANS YOU HAVE TO LOOK HARDER.
MAYBE, I’LL EVEN FIND YOU.
-THE JESTER
I turn the paper back over and squint my eyes. This time, I can barely make out the picture on the paper: a black skull wearing a jester’s hat.
I’ve seen the symbol, heard the name. But I have no idea where. I only have a vague recollection of being caught looking at something restricted, deemed dangerous.
Something a princess shouldn’t lay eyes on.
So... all the things as before, I guess. And what do you think of the lady in Gavin's old room, as well as the Jester? So far, are they portrayed well, do they create interest, do they make you wonder at all? Be brutally honest - I know this chapter sucks. Really, I just want ways to fix it.
Gender:
Points: 1193
Reviews: 262