Page 16 of What Lies Within Masks & Shadows

Rowlen laid back on the grassy reeds by the water’s edge and crossed his hands behind his head. His ice-blue eyes fell heavy and closed.

She often wondered, if their lives had been different, would she have ended up with Rowlen instead? She wasn’t blind to his subtle advances. The look in his eyes. The care he held for her. He expressed it to her once. His … feelings. Still, she was faithful to Kaine. And after their betrothal, there was nothing else that could be done by Elysian law. And no status of royalty would entertain an audience with someone like her to nullify it.

Even so. That didn’t stop her when her own eyes became heavy from consciously laying down beside him, resting her head on his shoulder.

That also didn’t stop her mind from wandering…

Perhaps Rowlen could run with her too.

“It’s getting late.”

There was no easy way to say it. Another day had almost passed in the skies. Another day closer to her escape. Another day closer to leaving the place she once called home.

Another day closer to leavinghim.

Alora warred off a sudden spike in her chest, sitting up to massage an ache in her neck as she rolled the tension from her shoulders. Unable to accept that hole growing in her heart, her gaze fell to find Rowlen wide awake and frowning up at her.

He must have felt it, too.

“I need to head off to work. Will I catch you at the High Queen’s Candlelighting tomorrow?” Her aching knees groaned as she stood facing the east. Facing Telldaira’s towering western gates—and walls that stretched far beyond where the eye could see on a clear day.

Rowlen sighed. “No. Father and I will be leaving in the morning. We have orders to deliver to Maldekka. Nobility needs their finery in case the High King graces their vigils.” He rolled his eyes. “We’ll return in two days.”

At least she would see him again.

Rowlen pushed himself from the grass, standing inches from her. But that unamused expression fell to something that senta shudder through her veins, and his voice dropped low in a vigilant whisper. “Please, be careful.”

“You too,” was all she could rasp out. If she said anything more …

With one last devastating smile and a squeeze to his wrist, Alora grabbed her pack, and before she could convince herself otherwise, weaved inside the shadows dancing at the forest edge. Leaving her aching heart to curse every step.

It wasn’t long before she encountered the burst of light beams around darkened silhouettes that was the western tree line. Squinting from the change, Alora brushed her palm to the symbol on the dawnwood tree before stepping into the once flower-rich lush meadow, now replaced with tall stocks of seeds that danced and swayed in the breeze.

Beyond, the city walls—her prison—brazen in earthy tones of clay and stone, awaited. The color suited. Nothing about Telldaira was welcoming.

Not anymore.

Yet she forced herself through that meadow regardless of the unnerving tension coursing through her body and ignored the chilling, invisible force coaxing her to turn and vanish inside Rhidian.

Only a few more days, she reminded herself.Then you’ll never have to see this again.

She had progressed halfway toward the unguarded gate when steady, rushed steps disturbing loose pebbles crossed her path.

Alora dropped low in a crouch in the middle of the meadow, concealed by the tall stocks of drying grass as the sound of slowing hooves traveled louder and louder.

Closer.

And closer.

To her wavering disbelief, four riders crested the top of the hill, flanked by Rhidian to the north.

They descended the hill, and her muscles stiffened.

No one ever uses this gate, she thought as a shudder of worry burned her palms. If she wasn’t careful, the entire meadow would ignite into a wildfire. Alora narrowed her eyes, raking the riders from head to boot as they traveled closer to the gate.

By some mercy, not one noticed her crouching in the grass.

Alora’s eyes fell on the one who led them.

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