Chapter 8 - Running

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I didn't have to be told twice.

I raced through the trees to reach the light at the end of them. Feet crunched behind mine.

It was too dark and there were too many trees to see him. I looked back once but scraped my arm against a tree as soon as I did.

I couldn't scream. Only run. Did he have a gun? A knife? If I had to face him, the wide-open space was the best place to do it.

But first, run.

I ran out of the trees, breaking free into the light. I didn't waste time looking back. I ran straight for the entrance of the castle, past the guards, hoping they would stop him.

I ran up the stairs at full speed, straight to my room. I shut the door behind me and tugged on the lock, then sank against the doorframe as my heart pounded in my temples.

Was it a prank? Was it for real? First the notes and now this.

I played his voice over and over in my head until it started to blur. I had never heard that voice before. A worker at the castle? A guard? Who would have it in for me?

Knock, knock, knock.

I screamed.

"Princess?" Evann said on the other side of the door. "Are you alright?"

I crawled to my feet, hands shaking, and opened the door. I tried to look calm.

He stepped inside, not waiting for an invitation. "I got a call. Is everything okay?"

My heart ripped apart my throat.

"Everything's fine," I said.

"You're out of breath."

"I went running. I'm an athlete, remember?"

I slapped his arm and gave a breathy laugh, getting dizzy instantly.

"You went running at eleven at night?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Couldn't sleep."

He scratched the faint stubble on his chin. "Is that so? Well, I suppose if you were only exercising, I have nothing to be alarmed about?"

He stared at me for a moment, waiting for an answer. I could have told him the truth. I could have shown him the letters. But if it was just a silly prank, I was going to look like an idiot. I couldn't risk looking like an idiot.

I nodded.

He nodded slowly. "In that case, goodnight, Princess."

He bowed, stepping out and shutting the door behind him. My heart continued pounding, my stomach beginning to flutter with nerves.

Was it a prank? Or was it for real?

§

"Did you hear what I said?"

I looked up at King Cyrus as he leaned over the chess table.

"No, I'm sorry," I said. "I spaced. What was that?"

He chuckled. "I said that if you ever start to feel overwhelmed, let me know. I'm here to help."

"Overwhelmed? It's just chess."

He moved his pawn. "I wasn't talking about the game, my dear."

I pressed my lips together and nodded politely.

For the last week I had spent every evening in the parlor with King Cyrus after dinner, playing a round of chess. I enjoyed the game but was getting tired of him beating me at it.

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