Meals at the castle were served on a rigorous schedule. Unless invited by Franco to share his family’s table, mine was aligned with the servants’. This meant that Marielle was going to come back at sunrise, midday, and shortly before nighttime. Gallen had agreed to meet me at sundown. My best chance was to escape at lunch. 

The night went by in a blur of impatience and anxiety. In the morning, I mentally rehearsed what I was going to do. Marielle brought breakfast, and like a predator, I watched as she unlocked the door, entered, banged my tray of food on the ground, retreated and locked my door again. 

The hours stretched as the sun rose high in the sky. Marielle was going to be back any minute with lunch. Hot gruel and a loaf of bread. I was hoping to surprise her enough to get the key and run out, locking her into my bedroom for long enough to escape. 

“Lunch is served, halflin…” Marielle had a knack for pet names. 

Before she could finish her sentence, I slammed the tray into her. I had been waiting by the door for an hour. She howled in pain, and for a moment, I worried that the gruel was hot enough to burn her badly. But Marielle had always been overly sensitive. 

“HELP!” She shrieked. 

I pushed my hand against her mouth, with enough force that she crashed into the wall behind her.

“Shhh.” I steadied my voice, placing a finger on her lips. “I’m a savage demon, remember? Don’t get on my bad side.” 

Intimidation wasn’t my domain of expertise, but I was desperate. There was terror in Marielle’s eyes. Enough to keep her stunned for the next couple of minutes, I hoped. 

Taking advantage of her surprise, I yanked the keychain from her neck. She didn’t resist. I shoved her away from the door, sending her flying a couple of steps back into my bedroom. 

I heard her meet the ground with a worrying crack, but I didn’t have time to look back. As fast as I could, I rushed out the door, locked my bedroom behind me, and just like that, I was free, shaking. 

No time to rest. Focus. Run!

I raced down the corridor, past my adoptive parents' chambers. For the last time. Even if I didn’t manage to escape, assaulting Marielle and attempting to flee would most likely earn me a lifetime in the dungeons. 

As I rounded the corner, Marielle screamed. It was a strangled shriek at first, but then she roared furiously. My heart was beating so fast I worried it was going to stop. I barrelled down the spiral staircase to the servants’ quarters. 

As soon as I reached the ground floor, I forced myself to stay calm and blend in with the household staff. Marielle’s screams for help couldn’t be heard down here. Lunchtime was over, and the servants were milling about, digesting their meals in the torpor of the sultry spring afternoon. 

The guards, too. They’ll be sluggish. 

No one paid attention to me as I slipped into the laundry room. Louise was piling linens onto carts. She jumped when I called her name.

“Louise, it’s just me!” I whispered urgently.

“Tatiana.” The color drained from her face. “You’re all Marielle could talk about yesterday at dinner. What do you need? Hold on. Wear this.”

She dug into one of her laundry carts and fished out a servant uniform. It was stained and rank of sweat, but I pulled it on, eager to shed my emblazoned dress, to let go of Franco’s searing brand. The household staff bore his colors, but I was the only one with his crest embroidered on all my outfits. 

“Marielle is locked inside my bedroom, but we don’t have much time before she alerts everyone in the castle.” I wanted to scream, but I kept my voice low. 

“Get in.” Louise shovelled clothes out of her pushcart. 

I considered my options. The cart was an old, rickety, wooden thing with squeaky wheels, but it was large enough for me to hide at the bottom. 

“Then what?” I asked Louise. 

“Then we stick to the plan, Tatiana. I will wheel this thing as close to the castle gates as possible. I’ll distract the guards long enough for you to make a run for it.” Her eyes were hard with resolve. 

“You have my backpack,” I remembered, panic rising in my throat. 

“Wait here then. My room isn’t far. I’ll go get it.” 

I hid in the laundry room for what felt like an eternity, jumping at every noise. I couldn’t tell whether news of my escape had reached our part of the castle yet. If it did, someone would search the laundry room at any moment now. My blood was pulsating furiously. 

The door swung open. Relieved, I saw Louise reappear with my leather pack. I quickly checked that everything was still inside: the maps, the diplomatic scrolls, my mother’s medallion, the yellow tunic I wore the night Franco found me in Voke.

Louise handed me a folded woolen cloak, along with a butcher’s boning knife. “You might need these.” 

Not the knife, I hoped. 

“Thank you, Louise.” I pulled her into a fierce embrace. 

“It’s time.” Louise gently pushed me away. “This is only a temporary goodbye.”

I pulled my leather pack on my shoulders, then slipped the heavy woolen cloak on. Finally, I stepped inside the laundry cart, curling myself up into a tight ball. The weight of the laundry Louise piled on top of me was smothering. 

“Can you breathe?” 

“For now.” Truth was, I could only draw slow, shallow breaths. 

Louise huffed as she lifted the cart’s handles in order to place all of its weight on the wheels. Then, she maneuvered it outside of the room, and I could hear her trudge behind it. 

“Have you considered a healthier diet?” She joked. 

I scowled, before remembering that she couldn’t see me. “I appreciate the sentiment, but now isn’t the time to discuss my figure, Louise!” 

I felt her shrug more than I saw it. My body was jolted left and right as Louise wheeled her load of laundry out of the room and through the castle corridors. 

“Almost outside,” she whispered, her voice strained from the effort. 

I heard the cluck of chickens and the rumble of thunder. Rain was coming, and if it did, Louise would have no choice but to turn around and wait for the storm to pass. 

Not now, not now, not now. 

But suddenly, rain became the least of my worries. The shrill pitch of the alarm bell resounded in my ears. Someone must have found Marielle locked in my place. 

Metal clanked, and I assumed the guards were barring Louise’s access to the courtyard. “No one goes out. The castle is under lockdown,” the guard slurred. 

“Tatiana Franco has escaped.” 

It was all I could do not to vomit.