Miralen slept peacefully on her bed, the blanket pulled up to her chest. Her hair spilled across the pillow like ink, and her breathing was slow and steady, like a child who had finally
found peace.
———
In Verbena's room.
The room was spacious and elegant.
Moonlight streamed through the half– drawn curtains. A gentle breeze drifted in through the open window, making them sway softly. Unlike Delayna's room, Verbena's room did not face the palace directly.
A neatly made bed stood at the center of the room, covered with white sheets. The oak floorboards gleamed faintly beneath the moonlight. A wardrobe stood beside the window on the left, while a small writing table with its chair tucked beneath it rested to the right of the bed. The door was on the same side.
But Verbena wasn't asleep. She stood silently beside the table. Slowly, she turned toward the door, as though making a decision that could cost her dearly. She exhaled softly before walking toward the wardrobe.
A faint reflection danced across its polished wooden surface.
Her hand paused on the handle. For a brief moment, she hesitated, reconsidering her decision. Then she opened it.
Among the neatly folded dresses lay a black outfit. She took it out and stared at it for a few seconds before taking another slow breath to steady herself.
She changed quickly.
She wore a dark charcoal hooded cloak over a grey tunic, secured with a wide leather belt fitted with pouches and straps. Dark leggings, wrapped boots, and fingerless gloves completed her practical attire, making her look more like a silent wanderer than a noble lady.
Her long black hair was tied into a single braid resting over her shoulder, while her warm brown eyes carried a weight no one could name. She picked up a bow along with a quiver full of arrows and slung them across her back.
Verbena walked toward the window. She looked down. It was only one floor above the ground. Thick bushes grew beneath the wall. She glanced back into the room one last time, pulled her hood over her head, and jumped.
She landed safely in the bushes with a muffled thud. Without wasting a second, she ran toward the stone wall surrounding the estate. She climbed over it and jumped to the other side.
Waiting outside was a carriage with two brown horses tied beside it.
Verbena untied one of them and mounted swiftly. She tightened her grip on the reins. The horse neighed loudly, rising onto its hind legs before its hooves struck the ground with a heavy thud. Then it surged forward.
It raced through the sleeping city like an arrow, its hooves echoing across the stone streets. Verbena leaned forward, urging it onward. They passed rows of silent houses before reaching the city market square.
Four roads stretched outward from the center, where a large white fountain stood, decorated with beautifully carved statues. Without slowing down, Verbena rode straight past it toward the city's main gate.
The night grew darker beneath the bright moon. She crossed the stone bridge leading out of the kingdom. Below, the river reflected the silver light of the moon.
She guided the horse toward the hills. As though sensing her urgency, the horse quickened its pace. Soon they reached the foothills.
Verbena turned onto a narrow trail that wound between two hills and disappeared into a quiet valley. The horse continued galloping. Far ahead, tiny points of light flickered in the darkness. She urged the horse even faster. As she drew closer, the lights became clearer.
A campsite.
Several horses stood tied nearby while a group of men sat around a crackling fire. Verbena slowed her horse to a walk as she approached. The men immediately turned toward her. There were around twenty of them. Each wore a white shirt beneath a worn green cloak, green trousers, tall brown boots, and a leather belt tightened around the waist.
Confusion spread across their faces at her sudden arrival.
Verbena dismounted and walked straight toward one man.
Unlike the others, he wore a hooded cloak that concealed much of his face.
He tilted his head slightly, amused. Verbena stopped before him, her expression unreadable. "Why did you do it?" she asked, her voice low and cold.
The man raised an eyebrow. "Do what?"
A bitter smile appeared on Verbena's lips. "Don't pretend to be innocent after nearly killing my sister, Draven."
Draven frowned. "I didn't nearly kill your sister." He folded his arms. "I saved her. You should be grateful."
Verbena's anger flared. "You think I'm a fool?" She stepped closer. "You hurt my sister and now you're pretending to be her savior? Don't lie to me."
Draven's amusement disappeared. "I'm lying?" His voice turned serious. "Then ask your sister yourself. I found her near the hills, injured, covered in blood, and barely conscious. I carried her near your city's entrance. And now you're blaming me."
Verbena fell silent. Confusion flickered across her face.
If it wasn't him... then who was it?
She looked back at him. "Do you know who attacked her?"
Draven shook his head. "No." He paused. "But if I had to guess then maybe it's your enemy kingdom. I found her near the Aurthea Hills."
Verbena's eyes widened. A dangerous realization settled inside her. She quickly hid it behind a calm expression. "I understand." She looked into the flames dancing before her. "Thank you." Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked back toward her horse.
A faint smile appeared on Draven's face. "Move out." At his command, the men rose immediately. They mounted their horses and pulled the reins. The horses neighed together, the sound echoing through the valley before they thundered away toward the Aurthea Hills.
Verbena mounted her own horse. As the two groups passed one another, she rode back toward her kingdom. The cold wind brushed against her face as determination burned quietly within her.
"No matter what..." She tightened her grip on the reins. "I'll find the one who hurt you, Sister. And I'll make them pay."
(The end of chapter 21)