Chapter 40:
Show Mercy
Two soldiers guard the dungeon door, both lit only by the starry night overhead. That’s where Giddius is confined.
The palace wall ramparts are free of archers. It’s cold. They must be huddled in the guard towers where wall segments meet.
I plan my future route through the gardens, mapping a path between the dungeon door and the stairs on the east wall, ensuring the guard tower sightlines are always blocked by vegetation.
Satisfied with my planned escape route, I approach the two soldiers before the iron door, with a basket of bread and fruit from the kitchen in hand. A black cloak covers my shoulders, keeping my ears warm in the frigid midnight air.
The guards straighten up at the sight of me, quick to conceal the fatigue of a midnight shift. Bringing Mehlia back is beyond my capability, but at least my connection can save one life today.
“A new face,” the taller soldier says.
“State your purpose, servant girl,” the shorter one says.
I feign a warm smile. “I am Raylia, new assistant to His Majesty Prince Trevus.” I raise the basket. “A meal for the convict.” The word makes me cringe, as I spent years living with the same label.
Their eyes narrow. “Dinner is not served at such a late hour,” the short one says.
The tall one steps forward. “How is a convict delivered dinner while we bear the elements?”
I raise the basket of fresh bread and apples. “If a guardsman provided his word that it shall be delivered to the convict, to my knowledge my task is complete. I too am eager to finish my duty for the day.”
They glance at each other, the greed evident on their faces. Giddius is scheduled to be executed tomorrow, yet these self-centered men are ready to steal his last meal.
Both reach for the food with their bare hands – perfect. I touch their thumbs at the same time. My connection forms, and they lose consciousness. Their legs go limp, and I latch onto their arms and grip with all my strength. Their weight is overwhelming, but I slow their fall until their heads are gently laid on the cobblestone. Just like in the Mephian camp, my connection puts people to sleep the moment we touch, regardless of my intention.
With the soldiers out of the way, I heave open the metal door. It screeches as it scrapes on the ground below, reminiscent of the door on my tower cell. A curvy staired passage awaits on the other side, with dim candlelight serving as a beacon at the end.
With great strain, I manage to pull both soldiers inside. The door is closed, and the evidence of my infiltration is hidden.
After lifting the set of keys from the sleeping men, I continue down the stairs. Pulling the pendant outside my shirt breaks its contact with my skin. With the pendant unable to draw from my sorcery, the illusion breaks, and my hair is back to its familiar chestnut brown.
A single candle illuminates the dungeon below. Upon stepping inside, I’m greeted with a semicircle of barred cells. Giddius stands at the sight of me, his mouth agape. The last time he saw my face was when we were trapped in Nepolis – the moment it was revealed he sold me to Lord Reger for a fief. Now I’m here in the middle of the night. He used to be part of the Palace Guard, so he knows there’d be guards at the dungeon door. I’ve taken care of them.
I approach the bars. He’s the only occupant in this fowl place. “Do you want to survive?” I ask.
He keeps his distance. “Was it the council that send you?” His voice held more confidence when speaking to the king earlier this evening.
I unlock the barred door. “I serve my own interests.”
He doesn’t move from his spot in the cell. His eyes run up and down my frame, like I’m a wolf that may snap him up.
“There’s no time to hesitate.” I pull my hood back over my head and turn to leave.
“Why?” he asks. He doesn’t understand, and that makes him fearful. Why save his life after he was content to hand me over to Reger, content to let Trevus be killed?
“Enough people have died.”
He still doesn’t move from his cell. Perhaps my explanation is difficult to believe. I also thought Trevus was lying when he offered my freedom in exchange for joining his party.
But we don’t have the luxury to spend any longer on this conversation. “Don’t make me leave you to your fate,” I say.
After a moment of thought, Giddius finally nods. He approaches. “I shall follow your lead, Mephian girl.” He doesn’t know how we’re going to get out of here, but he’s accepted I’m his only chance.
We head up the curvy staircase. He grimaces as we step around the two unconscious soldiers.
“They’ll wake up,” I say. Taking lives to save his wouldn’t accomplish anything.
I shove open the dungeon door and begin on my planned route through the garden. Giddius follows closely behind. The ramparts are still free of archers.
Soon we reach the small staircase on the east wall, which I identified when surveying the palace. We head up on the ramparts. I duck low, keeping my silhouette small. Giddius mimics my movements.
The wall overlooks a dense, dingy part of the inner city – perfect for a fugitive to slip away. Giddius peers over the edge. A jump from this height would render one unable to walk – if they were lucky.
I raise the hem of my shirt a few inches, revealing the rope coiled around my waist. The cord that was once a decoration on my bedframe unravels at my feet.
Giddius understands without a word, taking the length of rope and tying it to a crenellation. The end nearly reaches the ground below. Perfect.
He steps over the edge with the rope in hand, pausing just before I’m out of view. “You have my gratitude, Mephian Girl.”
“I’ve shown you mercy when your life was in my hands,” I say. “Do the same for others should the opportunity arise.”
He doesn’t say anything, but the look on his face shows he’s contemplating my words.
I wait.
He nods. Good.
I turn around and head back down the stairs. Giddius will survive, hopefully as a better man.
I tuck my pendant back under my shirt, restoring my illusion. Turning my black cloak inside-out reveals the white cloak that I sewed to it. It’ll buy more time if a watchman happened to spot me with Giddius.
I return to the palace, the king and his julite my next target. It’s the final piece before leaving this place behind. That’ll mean leaving Trevus behind too. I wonder if he’s still on the balcony. My heart already longs for him – the man I don’t deserve.
I pick up another apple from the servant’s kitchen before arriving at the throne hall. Only one soldier guards the tall double doors – Ackalanius, the same one who caught me the first time I snuck in. He was kind, showing sympathy when I pretended to be searching for Lord Heranius, even leading me to his door.
“Raylia?” He’s surprised. “‘Tis a late hour to wander.”
I reveal the apple. “I brought you something.” I’m sorry Ackalanius for deceiving you a second time. Once I have the julite, I’ll be free of this curse and able to live a normal life.
He takes the fruit. Our hands graze each other, my connection forms, and he falls asleep. I catch his torso before he hits the ground, and I haul him through the throne hall’s large doors. A decorative curtain forms the perfect pillow for his head.
The stone columns supporting the tall ceiling are even more impressive with an empty hall. I step onto the king’s raised dais, passing his prestigious throne. I rest my hand on the side door – the way the king would often exit. The pendant is cool – no julite yet.
The door gives way without much effort, revealing a dark passage with carved stone walls. Picking a candle from the hall, I continue inside.
I follow the passage to a tight spiral staircase, counting the floors on my way up. Second, third, fourth and finally fifth – my destination. As I suspected, the side door led to the king’s level, offering a secluded entrance. The alternative would mean leaving sleeping soldiers on the main staircase, which would raise an alarm in minutes.
Pushing open an arched wooden door reveals a candle-lit hallway. The fifth floor doesn’t share the bright white marble of the other four. These walls bear black stone, with only the occasional golden statuette to break the monotony.
I take the path that holds the most wealth. Long narrow windows offer glimpses of the glowing city below. This is the highest habitable part of the palace. My boots tread through the peak of Versillia, but as an unwelcome intruder.
I pass the main staircase, which is guarded by soldiers on the floor below. A fork in the path lays ahead. Two grand golden lions stand upon red velvet pillars, their paws forming an arch over one passage. They make my choice easy.
Turning a corner, I jerk to a stop and take three steps back, hiding behind a lion. Two soldiers guard the most decorated doors I’ve ever encountered – my destination. Even with my uniform, they won’t be pleased to discover I’m on the fifth level. Their weapons will be drawn before I can touch their skin, ending my quest early.
The lions will be my distraction. I let the candle flame lick the tassels of the red velvet on which the lions stand. It soon lights, covering the lion’s feet in bright fire. Black smoke collects at the peak of the arched roof.
“Help!” I leap out from around the corner. “‘Tis burning!”
Both soldiers come running. I recognize their faces – they’re part of the king’s entourage, the same ones which twisted my arms and shoved my body into the wall this afternoon.
“What has occurred here?” The soldier growls. I point to the already withering flame around the lion’s feet. It grabs their attention. I step between them and reach for each of their wrists. My connection forms, and both men drop to the ground, sound asleep.
The last of the velvet is consumed by the flame. Surrounded by stone and out of fuel, the fire shrinks to a few glowing embers and then disappears.
I head to the grand golden doors the men guarded, leaving them asleep in the hallway. Few people are allowed on the fifth floor, and my time here won’t last much longer.
The pendant on my chest begins to warm. Candlelight creeps out from under the doors. The king’s awake, and my connection will be useless with the julite so close. A silver dagger on the sleeping soldier’s belt catches my attention – should I be armed?
No. I’m not an assassin, the kind of person who’d enter someone’s bedroom with a knife. I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to use it anyway. Who’s to say my ambitions are worth his life? That’s a decision I could never make.
My gaze returns to the opulent doors. Like Trevus’s chambers, carved lions guard the entrance. They’ve done a poor job. I press them open.
Author’s Note:
This update got so long that I split it into two. The next part, chapter 41, is already published.
Shitties this is stressful
smart cookie
DOUBLE UPDATE THANK YOU 🙏🙏
Thank you!
I AM SO SCARED🫣
I mean I’m sire you could kill him with your powers anyway if you really wanted to
Okay it’s good it’s burned out!
Your burning the castle down? Flames are dangerous girl…
Yeah there’s no way she can just disappear into obscurity…
It’s more he owes her now if she’s in danger he’s bound by what she’s just done to save her…
True… she doesn’t like death
Also cause of all the drama you caused too lol, like he started it tbh but it was your meddling that cause it to escalate
What’s a fief?
Yeah I guess she really does need to escape though…
Except they know his last meal wouldn’t be given at this time lol
Normal huh… surely a king wouldn’t hunt down a girl for stealing from him and easily taking her life as she tries to be a simple tailor lol
Nah, I don’t think this is the same as ‘I bought this random lady bread, so she spread the kindness by buying someone someone milk’ lol
huh ok, so now she’s willing to do it
It is a treat. Two chapters in one day 💪🏼💪🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼. Love you
2 IN 1 I LOVE YOU
I was waiting for this chapter. I got class damn 🥹🥹