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The rest of my day was uneventful. What I wanted to do was meet with my father once more and give him a final opportunity to spill the truth, but then I would risk the chance of raising suspicion. I decided against it, and had casual, uninteresting conversation with him during dinner instead.

That night, I had the dream again and I took that as a sign that I was making the right choice. I decided I would go to The Cracked Hoof and scout for any potential men or women willing to safely lead me to the Forest of Torment. And I would do it tomorrow night.

The next morning, I gave Rose the news and watched her try to hold back her tears. She may have been regretting putting this ideain my head. “What if you don’t find anyone there? Will you come back home?” she sniffled.

I shook my head. “Once I leave, I’m not coming back until I find my answers,” I said. “I will have to leave Rimor as quickly as I can, before my father has enough time to realize I’m missing. I need a decent head start, Rose. If by morning I do not find anyone in Rimor to take me, I will leave and head to Chatus first. Maybe someone there will be willing to lead me to the Forest of Torment. And there are less people in Chatus who would recognize me. I hope. Especially since I haven’t been there since I was a child.”

“Does it have to be tonight?” Rose whispered through silent tears.

“The closer to the new moon, the better chance I have of sneaking out without notice, by cover of darkness. I don’t want to have to wait another month for the opportunity,” I explained.

Rose bit her lip to stifle a small sob, and I let my own emotions unfold. We cried together for a few minutes, using this time to hold each other close. When we were finally able to pull ourselves together, we started preparing.

She helped me pack enough food to last for a while, such as hard cheeses, breads, and other items that had a good chance of lasting me a decent amount of time, even if stale. I also found a book in the castle library about wild plants that I packed as well, hoping it would be helpful. I placed it next to the mystery book from Rimor Library.

In my room, we packed my few clothing items that weren’t dresses. One of my least favorite things about being royalty was the dresses that I had to wear daily. I much preferred my trousers and functional, maneuverable tops. I dug through the chest where my rarely used trousers and tunics were kept, and pulled out a pair of leather pants from the very bottom. They were gifted to me by my uncle just last year, and I was excited to put them to good use. I decided if I somehow made it to any shops during this journey, I would buy moreof them. That reminded me to pack a few pouches of gold pieces – my bargaining chip for my proposed guide. The guards didn’t even ask me about it when I pulled them from our vaults, likely because I often helped my father with ledger work and bringing him coin when he asked.

Lastly, I pulled my knife from under my pillow. It used to remain hidden under my bed before my recent intruder. It was my mother’s knife, which she gifted to me shortly before her death. My father reluctantly let me keep it. It was pure silver, and its intricately detailed handle reminded me of her own exquisite beauty. When I left the castle at night to see my uncle, the dagger always sat sheathed at my hip. My uncle taught me many ways to defend myself with such a blade.

Through more tears, Rose and I said our final goodbyes after dinner. I only wished I had the same affection with my father. A heartfelt goodbye. A long embrace. A kiss on the cheek. “Be safe. See you soon.” That was the relationship I wanted. But instead, here I was plotting my escape from him. There would be no goodbyes. Only resentment.

Rose agreed to try to delay my father learning of my absence as best she could. She explained she would inform the guards that I wasn’t feeling well tomorrow morning, and to let me rest as long as possible. She would tell the guards that she would notify my father herself, but in reality would refrain from doing so. That might buy me a day, possibly two. She swore that she would not tell the king where I was going, no matter the repercussion. She was a loyal friend, and I trusted her completely. And with her quick thinking, I knew she would be able to come up with something, or play the role of the ignorant handmaid. I didn’t deserve her.

Darkness came, and I made the difficult descent down the castle walls, arms and legs still sore from the other night. The pack over my shoulder made it even more strenuous. As I reached the wall thatsurrounded the castle, I paused. I turned to get a good look at Rimor Castle.Mycastle. My home.

I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. Was this a mistake? Could I take my time in finding answers another way? Was leaving my home – leaving everything I’ve ever known – the right decision? I stood there a moment, mind racing with questions and doubt. Then the familiar sound of clanking armor echoed in the distance.

Shit. My small window before the guards made their shift change was coming to end as a pair of them headed back towards me. My heart pounded in my ears. I had no more time for doubt. The decision had to be made and it had to be made now.

And so I climbed the wall and made my way to Draymarn where I would find The Cracked Hoof alehouse.

On that night, I did not feel the sensation of being followed, which was a relief. As I finally got closer to my destination, I noticed that more people occupied the streets of Draymarn this late than I had anticipated. I put the hood of my cloak up, wary of someone recognizing me. No one really seemed to look in my direction, thankfully.

At last, I finally reached a drab looking tavern with a large logo of a horse’s hoof painted atop the entryway. As I hesitantly walked towards the entry, I was stopped in my tracks when the door swung open wildly. Two large men shoved a grungier looking man through the doors and spat in his direction. “And stay out,” one of them yelled as the other laughed.

The poor bloke that was thrown out proceeded to vomit all over the street in front of him, and I backed away quickly to avoid the chunky splatter. I almost retched myself at the smell of it. I watched as the man drunkenly stumbled away, muttering profanities to himself.

We were off to a great start. I took a deep breath and headed through the door. As I did so, the bustling noises of the chatter insideseemed to quiet down, and I felt many eyes on me. I had high hopes that no one would recognize me, especially in common clothing. Back at Rimor Library, my expensive clothes and cloak, pinned-up hair, and face of my mother may have given me away. But now I had commoner’s clothes, hair messily braided down my back, and dim lighting on my side.

I peered up through the hood of my commoner’s cloak, graciously donated to me by Rose, to confirm the amount of people who may have been staring at me and to get a good look at the establishment. The bar was to the left of the entrance, and behind it were stacks of barrels filled with ale as well as several glass bottles labeled as different kinds of liquor. Wooden beams were placed throughout the room, helping to hold up the heaving stone structure. Although there were all sorts of stains on the floors and walls, the building itself was in decent shape.

Rectangular dining tables filled the room, leaving space in front of the bar. The tables held a multitude of patrons, most of which were men, with the occasional promiscuous looking woman dancing on one of their laps. The men that took notice of me watched me like a hawk. Many of them appeared disheveled, with scars lining their dirty faces. I wondered if this was where my father found Horus.

Some of the men looked at me with curious glances while others had hungry lust in their eyes, which made me shiver with discomfort.

I ignored the stares the best I could and made my way to the bar. I sat and pulled a gold piece out of a hidden pocket in my cloak and placed it on the counter. “One, please,” I said to the barkeep.

He was a middle-aged bald man with gray scruff and crooked teeth. He looked me up and down. I wondered if he was not used to hearing the word ‘please’ in this place. Or perhaps a gold coin was too much. How much did a drink cost in a place like this?

The man greedily snatched the coin from the counter and startedto pour a pint. “You’re on the wrong side of Draymarn, lady,” he said through rotting teeth. “You best drink your ale and leave if you want to make it home in one piece.” It was not a threat, but a warning.

“I am looking for someone who may be willing to help me,” I started explaining. “I need someone to take me somewhere up north, a far trek from Rimor.”

The barkeep spat on the floor, and I held back from grimacing. “And where might that be?” he asked.

Assuming he didn’t know the name Zolmara, I said, “The Forest of Torment,” before taking a sip of the bitter beer. The entire room seemed to get even quieter as I felt more eyes peer in my direction.

“Ain’t nobody here willing to go there, I’ll tell you that,” said the man. “Anyone who tries to go there gets lost and just turns right back around. Those that make it never return at all.”