Page 21

Anderic. He came.

As he burst into the room, his golden curls wild and eyes blazing with fury, he looked like an avenging angel—no, like the Angel of Death itself, wreathed in righteous wrath.

A sob tore from my throat, the relief so intense it was almost painful.

For a moment, I thought I might be hallucinating from the lack of food and water.

But no—he was real, gloriously real, and absolutely livid.

“I suggest you step away before I make you.” His voice was cold and controlled—but his eyes burned with fury.

Red barely had time to turn before Anderic’s fist connected with his jaw, sending him staggering backward. In an instant, the cell erupted into chaos.

Lennox appeared at Anderic’s side, his sword flashing as he engaged two of Red’s thugs. The clash of steel rang out, punctuated by grunts of exertion and cries of pain. I scrambled back against the wall, desperate to avoid the melee.

I can let go now. I’m safe.

Through the tangle of limbs and flashing blades, I caught glimpses of Anderic. He moved with a fluid grace that belied his fury, each strike precise and devastating. This wasn’t the polished, charming prince I knew - this was a warrior, raw and elemental.

A familiar voice cut through the din. “Ilyana!”

I turned to see Rosalind rushing towards me, a sword gripped in her hand. She looked every inch the warrior princess, her chestnut hair wild and her eyes fierce. She dropped to her knees beside me, her free hand gently cupping my face.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.

I managed a weak nod, still struggling to process the surreal turn of events. I wanted to ask her what she was doing here, but instead, all that came out was a rough, “I’ve been better.”

Rosalind’s eyes flashed with anger as she took in my battered state.

“I’ll kill them,” she growled, rising to her feet.

For a moment, I saw the war in her—she wanted to fight, to make them pay.

But then her gaze flicked back to me, and something in her shifted.

With a sharp breath, she forced herself to stay.

She glanced around, assessing the grimy cell before kneeling beside me. A moment later, she pressed a small container of water into my hands. I had no idea where she had gotten it, and I didn’t care. I drank greedily, the cool liquid burning down my throat after days without it.

I could feel one of my eyes swelling shut, the pain throbbing in time with my heartbeat, but Rosalind didn’t flinch at the sight of me. Instead, she tore a strip of fabric from the hem of her tunic and began tending to my wounds with surprising gentleness.

It was only then that I found my voice. “What are you doing here?” I rasped.

She didn’t look up as she secured the makeshift bandage. “When Laurel came to the palace, desperate to find Prince Anderic, the guards wouldn’t let her in.” Her lips curled slightly as if the memory annoyed her. “I was there. I helped her. And I followed.”

I stared at her, stunned. “Why?”

Finally, Rosalind met my eyes. “Because we’re friends.” She said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. “And that’s what friends do.”

As I watched, dazed, I realized there was yet another familiar face among the fighters. Noah, his warm brown hair matted with sweat, was locked in combat with Gareth. The two men grappled, trading vicious blows.

I had never thought much of Gareth beyond his quiet, watchful presence as my father’s loyal servant.

But now, seeing the way he moved—the precision of his strikes, the raw efficiency of his attacks—I felt a cold chill seep into my bones.

He had always been capable of this. He had always been dangerous.

And my family had never truly understood how close to harm we had been.

Their forms blurred as my vision swam, exhaustion and pain threatening to drag me under. I blinked hard, forcing myself to focus.

Noah fought with relentless determination, and despite Gareth’s skill, he couldn’t hold out forever. With a brutal strike to the temple, Noah sent him sprawling to the ground, unconscious.

As the dust settled, Noah turned to me, his expression shifting from triumph to concern as he took in my battered state. He dropped to one knee beside me. “Are you alright, Ilyana?” he asked, but as his gaze swept over me, his brow furrowed, and he turned to Rosalind instead.

“For now,” Rosalind said grimly. “But we need to get her to a physician. Soon.”

Across the room, Anderic stood over Red, his chest rising and falling with steady, controlled breaths. Red glared up at him, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, but there was no fear in his eyes—only cold certainty.

“It’s over,” Anderic growled, his boot pressed against Red’s throat.

Red let out a breathless laugh. “No. It’s over for you. For the royal family. Everything is going to change.”

Something flickered in Anderic’s expression—not doubt, not hesitation, but absolute understanding. He believed him.

Even so, Anderic’s response was measured, unwavering. “What do you mean?”

Before Red could answer, movement in the corridor drew their attention. A soldier rushed in. “Your Highness! We’ve secured the building, but more of them are coming!”

Anderic’s jaw tensed, his focus snapping back to me across the chaos of the cell. At that moment, I saw it clearly in his eyes—undeniable relief, but also a warmth so fierce it stole my breath and sent my heart racing.

Noah reached out to help me stand, and I gritted my teeth against the pain as my legs threatened to buckle beneath me.

I barely had time to steady myself before Anderic began striding toward me, his intense, dangerous gaze locking onto mine.

But just as he closed the distance, his eyes flicked to Noah’s hand resting on my shoulder.

His expression darkened, and a low growl rumbled in his throat as if the hand had offended him, despite the fact that Noah wasn’t a threat to me in the slightest. Noah, sensing the shift, raised an eyebrow but quickly pulled his hand away.

“Secure them. We need to go,” Anderic said, his voice carrying an unmistakable note of command. “Now.”

Noah hesitated only a second before nodding and stepping away. Anderic’s gaze then shifted to Rosalind, who still had her arm around me, keeping me steady. She raised her hands in mock surrender, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “She’s all yours, Your Highness.”

Without hesitation, Anderic scooped me into his arms. I didn’t protest. I didn’t have the strength. Instead, as exhaustion finally threatened to drag me under, I let out a slow breath and allowed myself, for the first time in days, to feel relief.

I nestled into Anderic’s arms, allowing myself a moment of weakness. His warmth seeped through my tattered clothes, a welcome relief after the cold, damp cell I’d been trapped in. The strong, steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek was oddly comforting.

“Your Highness,” I murmured, my voice hoarse. “I didn’t know you cared.”

His arms tightened around me. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he growled, but there was no real bite to his words. “You’re far too troublesome to die on my watch.”

I managed a weak chuckle. “Glad to know I’m such an inconvenience.”

As Anderic turned to leave, a commotion erupted behind us.

A soldier’s pained cry pierced the air, followed by the telltale sound of a body hitting the floor.

We whirled around—well, Anderic whirled, I just sort of lolled in his arms—to see Red sprinting towards freedom, the guard who’d been holding him now sprawled unconscious on the grimy floor.

“Damn it!” Anderic snarled, his body tensing. I could practically feel the conflict radiating off him—chase after Red or get me to safety?

Before he could decide, the thundering footsteps echoed through the corridor. A soldier burst in, panic etched across his face. “Your Highness! More of them are coming!”

Well, wasn’t this just peachy? Trapped between a fleeing criminal mastermind and his incoming goons. If I weren’t so exhausted, I might have found the situation almost comical.

I must have had a concussion. Nothing about this situation was funny.

“We need to move,” Rosalind said, her voice taut with urgency. She gripped her sword tighter, eyes darting between the corridors.

Noah nodded, positioning himself between us—mostly Rosalind and the approaching threat. “I’ll hold them off. Get out of here.”

Rosalind scoffed, stepping up beside him without hesitation. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m fighting with you.” There was no room for argument in her voice, only steel-edged determination.

Just as the tension in the room reached a fever pitch, a small figure darted through the doorway, narrowly avoiding Noah’s instinctive swing.

“Tommy!” I gasped, relief flooding through me. The boy was alive, seemingly unharmed, and—most importantly—not captured.

“M’lady!” Tommy panted, his freckled face flushed with exertion. “I know another way out. Follow me!”

Anderic’s eyes narrowed, clearly torn between trusting a street urchin and facing the oncoming horde. “How do we know this isn’t a trap?”

I mustered what little strength I had left to lift my head. “We can trust him,” I insisted, locking eyes with Anderic. “He’s with me.”

For a heartbeat, Anderic searched my face, as if considering asking how I knew Tommy. But whatever question lingered in his mind, he dismissed it just as quickly. With a curt nod, he turned to Tommy. “Lead the way, boy. And pray you’re not leading us astray.”

Tommy’s gap-toothed grin flashed in the dim light. “This way! Hurry!”

We plunged into a maze of dank, twisting corridors, the sounds of pursuit growing fainter behind us. The torchlight threw grotesque shadows on the walls, making it seem as if the very stones were reaching out to grab us.