Chapter 30: Book 2 Chapter 08: Going

“We’re going,” Bauteut said moments after she walked into Joan’s room and closed the door behind herself.

“Wait, what?” Joan asked, staring at her as if she had lost her mind. She really felt like she was missing half the conversation. “Wanna start from the beginning?”

“We’re going,” Bauteut said again. “Grab whatever you need, then let’s go. There’s not a lot of time to waste.”

“What do you mean we’re going? We haven’t even done anything,” Joan said, struggling to process what the girl was talking about. “How are we--”

“We only have a few minutes. Do you want to go deal with the fae or not?” Bauteut asked. “If you’d rather wait here, that’s fine. Searle put his ass on the line to give you this shot, but--”

“I’m going,” Joan said quickly before getting to her feet now that she understood what was going on. She quickly pulled out her clothes and started changing.

“Hurry it up,” Bauteut said softly, beginning to nervously pace. “I thought you would have had everything ready by now.”

“Nobody told me anything,” Joan said defensively, her cheeks burning slightly. It had been nearly two weeks since Searle had said he was going to come up with a plan and, honestly, she had assumed he would tell her when he had come up with something. Try as she might, she hadn’t been able to think of any way to escape either.

The guards outside Joan’s room seemed to always be there and traveling through the servant’s tunnels too often was risky. The castle was filled with guards and any attempt to escape would likely only make things worse.

On top of that, Joan always had an escort during the day, usually Bauteut, but they were always being watched. Even once the prince had left she could feel the eyes watching her every move. A part of her almost wished she had been a traitor, at least then the suspicion would have been deserved. She’d even weighed the thought of trying to escape during the day when she went down to practice, but it would have been far too obvious and she doubted they could escape an extended pursuit for long. No, she had to be careful.

Which was why Joan didn’t understand how in the world they had managed to come up with this plan or how they could possibly escape now. “So, what’s the plan?” Joan asked once she finally had her normal clothes on again and finished filling her bag. A part of her wished she could have brought some of the dresses, but it wasn’t as if she’d have time for anything nice on this trip. They would be running for their lives, she could only afford the bare minimum. Especially if they were going to be traveling quickly. She finally stuffed her book into the bag before reaching under the mattress and pulling out her sword.

“Where did you get that?” Bauteut asked.

“It was a gift,” Joan said quickly.

“You can’t have a weapon here. You’re in the royal--”

“Do we have time for that?” Joan asked before stuffing it into her bag and then throwing it over her shoulder.

Bauteut seemed to bite back her words before shaking her head. “Fine. But you and I need to talk about that later.”

“Fine, once we’re out of here. Let’s go,” Joan said quickly, though she hoped the other girl would forget.

Her healer nodded and then turned, walking out from the door. Joan followed quickly behind her. To her surprise, her guard was still outside the room, though she was sitting on the ground by the door, a small mug laying overturned besides her.

“What happened to Wendalin?” Joan asked, a small spike of worry running through her.

“She’d been having digestion issues, I offered to make her a tonic to help with them. I may have left out that it was also a powerful sleeping aid,” Bauteut said before taking her hand and quickly guiding her down the hall. “Come on, we don’t have much time,” she whispered.

Joan nodded and followed behind the other girl, occasionally glancing outside when they passed different windows. The sun had gone down only a little bit ago, yet there didn’t seem to be many torches outside. It was still far too early for everyone to have gone to sleep, yet the halls seemed almost empty.

Then again, the route Bauteut was taking her through wasn’t one she was at all familiar with and she was already quite lost. Occasionally they passed a hall that had guards or servants working there, but the pair were usually gone so quickly she doubted any of them noticed. She felt a knot forming in her stomach. Bauteut and Searle must have been preparing for weeks for this, the healer seemed to have it planned out to the last moment. “Why didn’t you tell me about the plan?” Joan asked.

“Shush, wait until we’re outside,” Bauteut said.

Joan flushed, but kept her mouth shut and let the other girl lead her. She was starting to recognize where they were, as well. They were almost through the main entrance. The knot in her stomach began to loosen. Finally, freedom at last.

Then they pulled down a hallway she didn’t recognize at all and drawn even further into the castle. “Where are we going? The exit’s that way. We--”

“Shush,” Bauteut repeated.

Joan felt her ire growing, but she tightened her hand on the other girl’s. What in the world was she planning? The exit was--

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Her eyes widened when she was tugged into a large room that was so hot and humid she was already starting to sweat. The kitchen. Of course, she felt like an idiot not thinking of this. The servants cleaning up didn’t even look up at them when they passed, too busy with their own work. They walked out the side door and within a moment the cool night air washed over them. “That was easier than I thought it would be,” Joan said softly.

“We’re not out yet,” Bauteut said. “We still have to get out through the main wall and through the city. So we’d better get going before anyone notices we’re gone. Then I want to know about that sword.”

“I’m a swordswoman. I can’t be a swordswoman if I don’t have a sword, now can I?”

“You can’t have a sword right next to the queen’s chambers either,” Bauteut said, her voice cold and harsh while she dragged her towards the stables.

“Well, I mean, I guess, but--”

“Do you even think before you do these things? Where did you even get it?” Bauteut asked.

“Ywain gave it to me, as a gift,” Joan said defensively, though she realized a moment later that it made her sound like she was just making excuses. Which she supposed was fair, as that was what she was doing.

“Who?” Bauteut asked, glancing back at her.

“Ywain Remesy. First blade of Lord Palkin. It’s a long story,” Joan said with a soft sigh. “Suffice to say, when he found out my sword got destroyed in my fight with the Troll of Reflections, he had this made for me. I couldn’t just leave it behind.”

“You shouldn’t have had it in that room, either,” Bauteut said.

“Where was I supposed to put it? I couldn’t let the queen know I had it, she’d have taken it away,” Joan said before she was pulled into the stables. Searle was there, readying three horses and adjusting the packs at their side.

“We’ll talk in a minute,” Bauteut said. “Searle, which one?”

“There,” Searle said before motioning to the smallest of the horses, one with a dark gray coat. Joan paused when she was guided to it. She wasn’t certain, but it seemed oddly familiar. It brought a light snicker to her lips when she realized why.

It was the horse that Searle had been given when they found out he was the chosen. At least, she was pretty certain it was. It was smaller than the others and had been a bit of a runt for a while. But the small circle of red on its side, just under the saddle, was oddly something she could remember well. “Oh, how things change,” Joan said. She let out a yelp when Bauteut started to pick her up. “P-put me down! I can get on a horse by myself! I know how to mount!”

Bauteut dropped her back down, though she managed to avoid stumbling barely. “Good. Let’s go, come on,” she said before making her way to a larger horse, one with a red coat.

For a moment Joan felt annoyed. Searle having the largest of the horses made sense, but Bauteut wasn’t that much older than her, why did she get the bigger horse? After a moment she stopped and rolled her eyes. “Am I really that petty?” she asked before climbing into the saddle.

“What?” Searle asked before he climbed into his own.

“Nothing, let’s go. Why didn’t you two tell me we were trying this tonight?” Joan asked.

“I told him not to tell you,” Bauteut said. “Because you’re you and if we told you, you’d have tried to figure out a way to handle all of it yourself or do it better rather than letting us help.”

Joan narrowed her eyes but didn’t say anything in response. She wasn’t sure what annoyed her more. The fact that Bauteut said it or the fact that she was somewhat certain the other girl was right. She finally just stuck her tongue out at the healer.

“Ha, I told you she would,” Bauteut said with a quickly growing grin.

That made Joan’s cheeks turn red. “Wait, what? You didn’t! There’s no way you could have known I’d do-- hey!”

Her cheeks turned even redder when Searle tossed a small bag to the healer, who reached down and tucked it into her saddlebag. “You are a little bit predictable, Joan,” Bauteut said with a small grin. “Sorry, we only did what we had to so we could get out of here. Now come on so we can--”

“She’s not the only one who’s predictable,” a voice rang out and they all went still. A figure stepped out in front of the stable’s exit and Joan shrunk down in her saddle slightly.

Queen Emeline.