“So let me get this straight,” Abigail said, lying stomach-down on my bed with her legs swinging in the air, “you’re locked up, you can’t train yet, and you’re actually excited to wake up at dawn?”

I was pacing again—because what else was I going to do in this gilded cage of a room? I’d already counted the ceiling tiles. Twice.

“I just want to do something,” I groaned, tugging at the sleeves of my dark blue riding habit. It was the only thing I owned that made me feel even remotely like myself. “Anything. If I don’t get out of this room soon, I’m going to start talking to the curtains.”

Abi snorted and wiggled her fingers in front of her, inspecting the shiny coat of sun-gold polish she’d just applied to her nails. She wore a soft yellow dress today, off the shoulder with puffed sleeves—she looked like an actual sunbeam lounging across my blanket.

“Is this sudden interest in training about, oh I don’t know…” She grinned. “A certain knight who showed up looking like a walking brooding fantasy?”

I stopped pacing. “Excuse me?”

She flipped onto her side and gave me a dramatic flutter of lashes. “Sir Demetrius. You know—tall, built like a warrior-poet, handsome in that ‘don’t-talk-to-me-or-I’ll-break-you’ way. Dimples, Destiny. Dimples.”

I made an exaggerated barf noise. “Ew, no. He’s a knight. Not a love interest.”

“So you did notice the dimples.”

“I noticed his scar. The one that says, ‘I’ll cut your throat if you ask too many questions.’”

Abigail grinned. “Even better. That just adds mystery points.”

I rolled my eyes but laughed anyway. She could always pull a smile out of me when I didn’t want to give one. I walked over to the window, pressing my fingers against the cool glass. The sun was high now, streaking across the courtyard and casting long shadows across the edges of the garden.

I turned back to Abi.

“I can’t take it anymore. I’m going outside.”

She blinked. “Outside like… where the guards can see us?”

“Outside like the garden. For fresh air.” I was already heading to the door. “And you’re coming with me.”

“Wait—Destiny—ugh, my nails aren’t dry yet!” she whined, scrambling off the bed.

“You’ll survive,” I said, grabbing her wrist and tugging her down the winding staircase before she could protest again.

The garden was a burst of life, tucked behind the castle like a secret waiting to be uncovered.

Stone paths curled through beds of wildflowers—pale lavender, ruby red poppies, and blossoms the size of dinner plates, all humming with bees. A marble fountain trickled in the center, the soft sound of water echoing in the quiet. Ivy climbed up the white garden walls, wrapping around iron arches where roses bloomed defiantly. Even the air smelled better here—clean, sweet, a little wild.

Abigail let out a breath like she’d been holding it for hours. “Okay… this is worth the ruined manicure.”

I closed my eyes for a second, letting the breeze kiss my skin.

And then… I turned toward the treeline.

Beyond the garden wall, the forest loomed. Deep. Green. Alive. The way the trees moved in the wind—it was like they were calling me. Like they knew I needed out of this castle more than I needed anything.

“I’m going in,” I said.

Abi nearly choked. “You are not going into the woods alone. Destiny, you’re grounded. Like, capital-G grounded. If your dad finds out—”

“I just want to explore. No one’s going to see us.”

“No one because no one goes in there! There are wolves! Bandits! Ghosts!”

I gave her a look. “You’ve been reading too many tavern stories.”

“Okay, but you haven’t. What if you get bitten by something poisonous? What if you fall into a trap or some… ancient cursed tomb or something?”

But I was already hopping over the low stone fence at the garden’s edge, boots hitting the moss with a satisfying crunch. “Then at least I’ll die having seen something.”

Abi huffed and followed, hiking her skirt up with both hands. “If you get me killed, I’m going to haunt you for eternity.”

“Noted,” I grinned.

We stepped under the canopy, swallowed whole by green.

The castle vanished behind us. The birdsong got louder. The air grew cooler, rich with pine and earth and promise.

And for the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe.