Page 4

From the outside, it had indeed looked like a barn—long and low, with carved stone columns wrapped in ivy and moss.

But when I stepped inside the building, the scent hit me and it wasn’t that of animals.

Lavender oil, starch, silk. The air was heavier in here, too.

Towering shelves lined the walls, packed with bolts of fabric in every color and texture I could imagine.

Rough wool and coarse linen were stacked like stone bricks, while gauze floated over the edge of open trunks like foam.

Rolls upon rolls of silk everywhere I looked.

The stained-glass windows near the ceiling spilled a rainbow of colors across the floor.

Massive chests sat open between the aisles.

Cotton, lace, silk—you name it, and it was here.

Plenty of dark green velvets, and golden and silver threads, scissors so big I had trouble imagining who could even use them—and needles the same size as well.

Deeper in the back of the open room was a row of dummies, tucked between hanging bolts of brocade.

They wore half-stitched gowns and twisted corsets, their headless forms frozen mid-pose, like they’d once moved and might again if I looked away long enough—but that was just my fear speaking.

To it, every thread and every piece of fabric in this room was out for my head, and if I didn’t get the hell out of this court soon, I was going to die a very painful death.

Then I heard the weak sound of wheels turning somewhere outside.

I moved. Black dots exploded in my vision and I hardly saw what I was doing, but somehow, I did it anyway. I went to one of these chests full of silk, pushed back the fabric and got in there, then pulled it over my head .

All that mattered was that nobody saw me.

Nobody could know I was here, not until nightfall, at least. The chest was big enough to fit me perfectly, and the dark wood it was made of had holes everywhere, and I didn’t even think about food or water in those moments.

I just held my breath and prayed with my everything until I heard the footsteps coming through the doors.

This was it. My eyes squeezed shut and even my heart stood perfectly still. I fisted my hands and I waited for them to either leave or scream bloody murder and call for the guards to come get me.

Neither happened.

The doors seemed to be opening wider, and I could tell by the sound they made as they were dragged against the ground. I couldn’t see anything, could hardly hear the footsteps now, but they were coming closer to me.

Regret came over me just like before. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I should have found a better hiding spot, damn it. I should have been more clever!

Too late now . With my tongue between my teeth to make sure I didn’t scream accidentally, I waited.

Someone spoke, but only the muffled sound of their voices reached my ears through the fabrics over my head.

A moment later, the lid of the chest I was in closed.

A miracle I didn’t scream or jump or move at all.

My body could have been made out of concrete, each one of my muscles clenched, my eyes squeezed tightly still, my heart trying to break right out of me.

The lid of the chest was closed and the sound of it still echoed in my mind.

Fuck, it sounded so final, and the urge to get up, to push it back open, to get the hell out of there was so strong.

The next second, I was picked up.

Voices outside, and my heart beat too loudly to hear anything even if I hadn’t had soft silk in all shades of green all over me.

My God, I was suffocating, even though I felt air going down my throat.

There was plenty of it, yet I couldn’t convince myself that my lungs were expanding and I wasn’t about to die any second now.

Rune.

That’s what I needed to focus on—Rune. His indigo eyes, those silver maps in them that could very well show me my way home. A very different home from the one I grew up in, though. A home that felt entirely mine. My destiny, if I even believed in such a thing.

His smile that was only half most of the time, but then when he gave me the full version, it was worthy of fucking worship.

I wanted to live just so I could see more of those smiles forever.

His lips that tasted better than anything to have ever existed, and his body that made mine come alive, and his voice— God, his voice .

Not a whisper, not quite voice, but the sweetest spot in between.

Now, as I thought of it, I could have sworn that Rune was there behind me, and the silk was his arms, and he was whispering to me that we were going to be okay. Whatever came next, it didn’t matter because we were going to make sure that we would be okay.

The chest was put down, and I exhaled for as long as I could.

I wasn’t dying, not even close.

Then someone shouted something—could have been a ready! Whatever they’d put the chest in moved, and suddenly I heard that weak sound of wheels turning again.

A carriage. There was a good chance that I was put in a carriage, and maybe I had chosen the exactly right spot to hide in. Maybe wherever they were taking this chest full of silk would be far away from the queen’s palace, from the queen and the prince and everyone else—until Rune found me.

Maybe I was really going to be okay.