Page 39 of Revert
The full weight of her confession seemed to strike her all at once. With a startled gasp, she yanked her hands from mine and stumbled back. Flustered, she scrubbed at her eyes, as if she could erase all evidence of her brief falter in the composure expected of her.
“Forgive me, Princess. I shouldn’t have said anything. I was foolish to?—”
“No.” My voice emerged tight, barely more than a breath. “You weren’t foolish. And I swear on my life, this conversation will remain solely between us.”
By the fear haunting her eyes and lingering in her posture, she seemed afraid to believe me. I couldn’t fault her for her caution, even as I wasn’t quite ready to let go of the fragile connection that had existed between us, however briefly.
Liora made for the door, but paused midway. I sensed hesitation in the rigid set of her posture, the stillness that came not from calm but from quiet resolve. Slowly, she turned, decision in her steady gaze. “Your Highness, if I may….”
“What is it?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice calm.
Her gaze darted back to the door, the only barrier between us and the guards I knew were still straining to overhear. Cautiously, she stepped closer and bent to whisper in my ear.“Forgive me, I know it’s not my place to say, but…His Highness came in here a few days ago.”
Alarm cinched my chest. “Prince Castiel?”
She gave a small nod. “I noticed him near that tapestry.” She motioned to the woven scene decorating the far wall.
The tapestry…I fought the desperate urge to spring to my feet and immediately investigate. My fingers dug into the armrest until my knuckles ached.
“What did His Highness do?” I could barely form the quavering question, afraid to confirm my worst fears.
Another moment of hesitation, this one a beat longer, as if she sensed the panic her next words would ignite. “He…took something from a cubby hidden behind it.”
The breath fled my lungs all at once. “He…tookit?”
Another nod, tentative and small. “I don’t believe he realized I saw him, nor is it my place to question the prince. But you were kind to listen to my troubles, so I thought you deserved to know.”
With this ominous revelation, she curtsied and departed, leaving me stranded in the rising tide of my own dread.
Despite my desperation to check my breached hiding place and confirm my worst fears, my body wouldn’t move, paralyzed by the terror of what I already knew.
It felt like time twisted, slow and cruel, before I forced myself to stand, the walls seeming to tilt slightly as I rose. Each step towards the tapestry an ascent, as if climbing a scaffold to the noose.
My hands shook as I pulled the heavy fabric aside. The moment my fingers slid into the concealed hollow and met nothing but cold, empty stone, my breath caught sharply in my throat.
No. No, no,no.
The hidden journal—the record I had been relying on to navigate this timeline, the single tether holding together every fraying thread of my mission, my purpose, and my very survival—was gone.Stolen.
For a moment, I could only stare into the dark recess, fighting to remain upright as my knees threatened to give out. I’d been so sure my chosen hiding place was secure, the one place Castiel would never think to look…but I should have known he would eventually find it. Every stone in this palace belonged to the royal family, every secret already theirs for the taking.
If Castiel had it…it would all be over. I had written each entry in code, but even if the prince couldn’t understand it, merely possessing hidden and coded documents was more than enough to condemn me. Though admittedly, it likely wouldn’t take long for a man as intelligent as the prince to decipher it. Then he would not only hold my secrets, but have evidence to deliver straight to the king, sealing my fate and robbing me of this stolen second chance.
How could I have been so careless?
Before I fully registered what I was doing, I was already moving. Throwing on a dark cloak, I hurried to the door and pressed my ear against it, straining to listen. The low murmur of the guards’ voices drifted through—too close for me to risk slipping past just yet. I would have to wait for a chance to slip past them, even if it took all night. I cracked the door open just a sliver, just enough to watch and wait.
An opportunity came sooner than I expected. A maid, arms straining under the weight of a heavy tray meant for another long-term guest, slipped on a damp patch of stone. A teacup flew from the tray, shattering against the floor with a sharp, echoing crash.
She froze in horror before dropping to her knees, setting the tray aside to gather the shards with trembling hands. Both guards stepped forward—one crouched to help her collect the tiny bits of china, while the other spoke to her in a hushed, reassuring voice.
It was now or never. Heart hammering, I drew a slow breath, then eased the door open and slipped into the corridor, hugging the wall as I tiptoed past—each step silent and deliberate.
The corridors were quiet at this hour, shrouded in flickering torchlight. My slippers made no sound on the worn stones as I slipped from shadow to shadow, heart hammering against my ribs.
I knew the route to his chambers. Everyone in the palace did, though few would dare approach uninvited. Even fewer would consider slipping in unnoticed, especially not the prince’s betrothed.
But dread drowned all caution. The journal contained everything—contact names, coded notes, half-translated sigils, personal reflections that could be twisted into confession, and worst of all: that I had gone back in time. I couldn’t let him have it.
