The smell of Father’s cooking filled the air, but I was old enough to know it was only the onions. I almost didn’t want to face Father knowing what I knew. Such a simple thing, and yet it made me sick to my stomach. No, he couldn’t have lied. He must be mistaken. Why on Ser would he lie about that? It was getting dark -- perhaps he couldn’t see. I joined him in cooking, but that feeling, that dread, wouldn’t leave me in peace. Questions and fears prodded my conscience, and I tried my best to combat them. They were beyond the realm of reason, they were instinct.

“Paris!” Father raised his voice, and I snapped to attention. He continued, chuckling, “I called you three times. What were you thinking about?”

My gaze slid along the wall, the food, then to his eyes as I considered what I was about to say, “Why can’t I go out alone?”

Father’s expression hardened, he looked away, “You know this, darling, you’re not ready.”

“How can you tell?” I pressed.

“That letter, for one!” he laughed, but it was a hollow sound.

“Actually I was right. I checked the Encyclopedia ‘44 and the seal is identical!” I tried to feign pride, but my smile melted when I saw his face. The gravity of his expression seemed to age him another decade. “What is it, what’s the matter?”

I watched him struggle to soften his expression, loosening his jaw and relaxing his brow, but his eyes stayed hard. “You’re not ready,” he insisted.

“I think I’m old enough to try, am I not? I’m 18--”

“This conversation is over. You’re not leaving.”

“Please I--”

“You’re not going anywhere and that’s final.” His eyes were aflame and I swear if I had been standing a bit closer he might have hit me. I left the kitchen with my tail between my legs. Humiliation doesn’t even begin to cover how I felt. My face burned, and I needed to get away. I was scared of this sinister side of Father, and angry that he’d talk to me like that. He had unwittingly helped me make up my mind; my queen called, so I would answer and travel to Yaanu Crown. Without his blessing.

The journey would take me four days on foot, on horseback my journey may be cut in half. The next full moon was just about three nights away. The only problem was that I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t know where to get a horse, what it would cost, or how long I’d be gone. I went snooping around Father’s room for a bag, and hoped to find money too. Under his bed there was a dirty, beaten travel pack and I hit the jackpot with a bunch of money hidden in a vase by the door. I had no wish to get caught packing; if Father reacted so strongly to the mere mention of going outdoors, for him to find me leaving -- well I didn’t want to think about that. An escape plan came together in my mind as I thought about what needed to be done. After big fights, which were few, Father always came into my room with a peace offering. Food and an apology was his favourite. Then he’d stay out of my way for the rest of the day. The plan was to stash my bag behind my bed until Father arrived, wrap and put away the food once he’d left, and finish packing before my departure in the dead of night.

I hid the bag, and not a second too soon Father knocked on my door. “Come in,” I said. He entered, silent, and he offered me a plate loaded with chicken dumplings and rice. He sat down beside me, “Listen, kid, I’m sorry about yelling earlier. I worry about you, and I know this is difficult to believe, but I know better. I’ve lived more than thrice your lifetime, so I know what the world is like. And knowing you, the world would tear you apart. I’m sorry if you were hurt, I’m just trying to do what’s best for you. That’s my sole purpose as your guardian.” Father heaved a deep sigh and patted my shoulder, “I’ll leave you to it.”

He stood up and left without waiting for a response. For a moment I wondered if he was right. Storming off seemed like a strong response to protection. The question lay in whether his protection was genuine or not, and I couldn’t tell. I shook my head in an attempt to physically rid myself of doubt. I’d go regardless. I ate a few bites of the food and stowed the rest, wrapping it in the napkin Father gave me. Finding what clothing to bring proved a task more difficult than one might expect, but I managed. I smuggled the money in the bottom of my boot because I hadn’t a wallet or the like. The pack grew distended as I negotiated more and more things into it. At the last minute, I realised I should pack a weapon of some sort. I looked around my room, empty in all corners with only my cot, closet, and me in the middle. An ornate knife jumped into my mind’s eye, but I couldn’t place it. I’d have to search for it.