Blueprint

15: The Long Way

Just one more evening. One more evening of keeping her mouth sealed, and then everything would be fine. The high elf would be long gone, and once again she and Amari and Astrid could be the best of friends. One more evening, and they could forget this whole mess ever happened.

Jharvelle rolled her duvet tightly around herself, tucking each corner in snugly so that she felt like she was being held. It was a feeling that she never grew tired of.

She closed her eyes, ready for the next morning already. All she had to do was fall asleep, and as soon as she woke up, everything would be back to normal.

"Princess!"

She'd been wrong. After naught but a few moments of rest, she'd been woken again, and things were far from normal. Perhaps farther than they'd ever been.

"Princess, get up! We need to evacuate!"

She'd heard the voice before, somewhere. It must've been a servant. She yawned, stretching her arms out before throwing her legs over the side of her mattress and standing.

"Just a moment!" She called, groggily trudging towards her vanity. She lit the lamp nearest to the mirror and examined her face, noting the dark eyebags that had collected there.

"Princess, you're in danger! We leave now!"

And with that, her door flew open. The servant looked painfully bedraggled; his face was red, his hair was slick with sweat.

"What's happened?" Jharvelle asked, beginning to take the situation a touch more seriously. She hurried out the door, leaving her heels behind.

"Inventor Alantar," he began, breathlessly, "he's committed high treason. He and a Wallendian spy are loose in the city—we need to secure the royal family. Come! We haven't much time!"

He didn't grab her hand, but rather offered his. Jharvelle accepted it, and soon, she was running through the halls with him. The sound of war drums and horns started very suddenly, and Jharvelle nearly stumbled onto her servant guide. He helped her right herself, and she muttered an apology.

"You're fine, princess. We just need to get to the safe room."

"We have a safe room?"

"Of course," he said, suddenly tugging her down a hall she wasn't certain she'd ever seen before. Even after living in this castle her entire life, she wasn't sure she'd even taken the time to explore a quarter of it. "With Wallendia's... ever increasing violence, we need to keep you royals safe."

Jharvelle thought for a moment. "Astrid," she muttered, "what about Astrid?"

"Captain Vuric's first on your detail, princess. Don't worry."

Jharvelle would've been relieved, but a part of her couldn't hold that feeling with the knowledge that Amari—sweet, always gentle Amari—had betrayed their entire country. Something was missing. Something was being kept from her. Amari, of all things, was not a traitor.

"Velle!"

The voice was strained, nearly breathless. Jharvelle tossed her head over her shoulder, watching as Astrid approached her swiftly from the end of the hall. She reached out, and her guide released her to be taken into the captain's arms. Jharvelle was at once kissed passionately by the captain, and she could hear the servant's noise of surprise.

"Oh, Velle, you're alright," Astrid said after their lips broke apart, her forehead pressed against Jharvelle's. "Let's get you to safety."

Astrid took her by the hand, leading her swiftly and purposefully through the halls.