Ch. 19

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She couldn't find Ashlyn or Demian in the halls when she left. She didn't look for them. She walked through the halls with a kind of reckless abandon, feeling more and more distraught with every step she took and every step she heard from the guard behind her. She reached the castle doors and there she stopped, staring out at the sun setting over the city below her. She turned and gestured her guard closer. He came to her side, staring at the sunset with her.

"It's beautiful, Lady." He said quietly.

"It truly is." She replied.

He never suspected when the butt of her dagger struck the back of his head. He crumpled. And she ran.

She wasn't being careful. She wasn't being smart.

He would find the guard's body before she even made it out of the city, but she didn't care. She just needed out. She needed to taste the air and not feel like a prisoner. So she ran.

The townspeople stared at her as she passed. The guards started in surprise when they saw her. Her beautiful evening gown gathered dirt and dust and mud across its peach hem.

She reached the gates and ran out into the forest. The tumbled ruffles that fell down the center of the gown tore on the bushes. The branches grabbed at the gemstones decorating the soft lace veil that covered her upper arms. Foliage tangled in the tresses that curved around her waist.

She reached the clearing where Idaly's horse should have been, but he wasn't there. She screamed in frustration and gripped at her hair. Then she heard a stick crack behind her and she spun around her heart pounding, but it was just the horse, freed from his harness. She grabbed onto his mane, but just when she went to pull herself up, hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her down.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Serden's voice hissed in her ear.

She screamed at him and twisted in his arms, but he held tight. He clutched her to his chest, walking them backward.

"Let me go!" She yelled, yanking at his arms around her. "I swear to god, Serden, let me go this instant!"

"Or what?" He snarled.

He spun her around and shoved her back into a tree. She gasped at the impact.

"I asked you a question, Arysa," He sneered. "Where do you think you're going?"

Tears rolled down her cheeks. She gasped for air. All her emotions and her pain and her distress came crashing down on her.

"I don't know. I don't know." She gasped. "I just needed out. I--I don't know."

Some of the ice in his gaze melted, but anger still clenched his jaw.

"You can't keep running away." He hissed. "You have to stop this."

She shook her head. "I can't. I can't. I just can't."

He grabbed onto her shoulders and shook her. "You can." He snapped. "And you will. Get it together."

Her eyes fell on his, a dark stormy yellow, cold and hard. She shoved him away from her and stepped away from the tree.

"It's too much." She said quietly. "All of this. The war. My uncle. You. It's too much."

He reached for her and she flinched. His hand stopped midair.

"Arysa," he breathed, "I'm not going to hurt you."

Tears burned behind her eyes. Her breath hitched in her throat. "I don't know that." She whispered. "I never know that."

Pain flashed through his gaze and he turned away.

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