I leaned back on the rooftop next to Raimond and watched the sunset as the sky faded from blue to pink to orange. The wind lightly tossed the few hairs that had escaped my braid.

Raimond sat up and turned towards me. We’re going to get in trouble if we stay up here too long, he signed.

As if on cue, I heard Krull shout my name from downstairs. “Kytte! Girl, I swear if you don’t get down here right now, you’ll regret it!”

I rolled my eyes and was grateful that Raimond couldn’t hear him. It’s too peaceful up here to go down to the tavern, I signed. And I really couldn’t care less about Krull.

My younger brother and I had started working at the Sleeping Wolf Tavern three years ago, after the death of our father. He’d been in massive debt when he died, which Mourice Krull had “graciously” paid off in exchange for ten years of service from Raimond and I. We didn’t really have a choice in the matter, which is why I learned how to serve drinks at the tender age of twelve.

Raimond was only nine when we first came, but that didn’t stop Krull from putting him to work. He’d gotten marvelously talented when it came to cleaning, but he still wished he could do the work other boys his age normally do. Unfortunately, Krull finds most jobs too difficult for a deaf person.

Looking back at Raimond, I opened the window next to me. You should go down. I don’t want you to get in trouble.

I knew he wanted me to come down with him but with a sigh, he ended up just going inside. He knew me well enough to know that arguing with me won’t get him anywhere.

I moved further away from the window so that if anyone came into the room looking for me, I’d be out of sight. I sat there for a while, listening to the sounds of the city around me. The tavern was fairly close to the palace and this area of the city was mostly noblemen, members of the royal court, and wealthy merchants.

Because it was such a nice area, the tavern wasn’t really the worst place in the world, but between drunk noblemen, a ruthless employer, and the fact that most of my nights were spent scrubbing vomit from the floorboards, I wished with all my heart that I could just run away.

The sound of wooden wheels on cobblestone directed my attention to the line of carriages coming down the road. The city was actually more crowded than normal tonight because Prince Berimund’s coronation was tomorrow. Influential people from all throughout Orinnath were arriving, and some were even renting rooms at the Sleeping Wolf.

I saw the prince once, about a year before my father died. He was riding with the king in some sort of royal procession. He was on a horse, and my father chastised me for laughing when he almost fell off. I couldn’t help it. Something about the prince has always amused me. He’s never really managed to gain the respect of his citizens. The prince is soon going to become a king, but very few think him ready for it. Every story told about him concerns a clumsy misstep or an embarrassing accident. If I were a prince, I’d make it my first priority to be viewed as powerful and commanding.

I smiled to myself. When my mother was alive, a long time ago, she would always say I had a fighting spirit. She called me her “little warrior”. She even convinced a retired soldier to give me a few lessons in swordsmanship. I was good. My father used to say if I were a man, people would be very intimidated by me. I never understood why I couldn’t intimidate them anyway.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of the door opening through the window. It sounded like two people came in, but it was difficult to tell from the footsteps. I cursed inwardly. I didn’t know how long they planned to be in there, but until they left, I was stuck on this roof.

“You sure nobody comes up here?” It was a woman's voice, but it had none of the warmth I’d grown accustomed to in the voices of women I know.

“The innkeeper said it’s just storage.” The rough second voice was that of a man.

“Alright, so we’re taking him out right as the crown goes on his head. It has to be right then, make sure to tell your people.”

“You know, I could have him dead within the hour if I wanted. I’m in control of half the royal guard at this point.”

“I understand, but the entire point of all this is to send a message. We kill the prince at his own coronation and we gain credibility. I didn’t think I’d have to explain this to you.”

Outside of the window, I was frozen. I was entirely focused on trying to steady my breathing. I was also slightly afraid that I would fall off the roof in shock.

“Alright, I get it, just give me the plans. You sure the innkeeper won’t say anything?”

“I paid him off. Besides, if anything goes wrong, we’ve got enough people on the inside to make sure that he’ll die tomorrow no matter what.”

“That’s reassuring. You can go down, I’ll follow in a few minutes. I want to look over these.”

I heard the shuffling of papers and a set of footsteps leaving the room. A few minutes later, the second man walked out. I inched slowly to the window and climbed inside the room. The world was a blur. I shuffled to the closet down the hall that was my room and fell into a ball on my mattress. I felt nauseous and my head was spinning.

Krull knew something was wrong, but he obviously didn’t care if they were paying him. Apparently, half the royal guard wanted the prince dead too. I couldn’t think of anyone to tell who could do anything about it.

I considered forgetting what I’d heard. I could act surprised when the prince died, pretend I never knew anything, and just keep living my miserable life the way I always had. But… 

No. That’s not who I am. That’s not who my mother thought I was.

Prince Berimund was only fifteen years old. My age. I couldn’t live with myself knowing I let him die. I sat up and took a deep breath. It was decided.

I was going to save Prince Berimund’s life.

.                    . .

Getting into the palace was a lot easier than I expected. I left the tavern just before dawn, with a knife I’d stolen from Krull hidden in my skirts. There were massive crowds already entering the palace courtyard, as the coronation was set for midday and there were games, dances, and festivities in the hours before it.

I went in with the crowds and then found a servants entrance. At first, I was surprised by the lack of guards but then I realized: there’s not much need to defend a prince you’re planning on assassinating. Because of this, I got through the palace halls without a single confrontation. A few maids gave me odd looks, but I just gave them a confident smile and nod and went on my way.

It took me a little under an hour to find the prince’s room. I wasn’t completely positive it was his, but it was the only guarded room I’d seen and it was in one of the nicer wings of the palace, so I figured the chances were high.

I was at the end of the hall and the guard hadn’t seen me yet. I thought for a moment, and then quickly ducked into the room immediately next to the prince’s. Fortunately for me, it was empty.

The room was large but only had a bed, desk, and dresser. Probably a guest room. It also had a window, which was exactly what I had been looking for. I opened the window tentatively and looked down. There was a narrow ledge directly beneath that went all the way to the next window on the left, which I assumed was the prince’s.

Swallowing nervously, I lowered my foot down onto the ledge and grabbed hold of the ivy growing up the walls. I looked down and my stomach lurched. I was four stories up, scaling the side of the palace, and trying to stop a royal assassination.

My father used to say that my recklessness was likely to get me killed. His prediction was looking more and more accurate by the second.

After a series of carefully placed steps and a death grip on the ivy, I pulled myself in front of the prince’s window, swiftly undoing the latch and slipping through. I straightened up and looked around. The room was about what I expected: larger and more elaborately decorated than the first.

My eyes immediately fell to the lump in the ridiculously oversized bed. I found myself blushing. Despite the circumstances, it felt wrong to be looking so closely into the prince’s personal life.

I walked over to the bed and hesitated. Biting my lip, I shook the prince’s shoulder gently. He sat up almost immediately and I took a surprised step back. He looked around, confused, and his eyes widened when they landed on me.

“Who are you?” There was a tremor in his voice, which I could hardly blame him for, but it made him sound less princely.

“I- Listen,” I said, “I am so sorry, but you need to get out of here. The guards are- I mean, the coronation…” My eyes met his. “You’re about to be killed.”

“What?” He looked at me, bewildered, and I felt a pang of guilt. It wasn’t my fault, but telling a fifteen-year-old boy that he’s about to die isn’t easy.

Eyeing me suspiciously, he pushed back his thick blankets and climbed out of bed. “I don’t know what this is, or how you got in here, but-”

“Look, I hate to interrupt,” I said, “but I seriously think you need to start thinking about an escape plan.”

“Escape plan?” he asked. “It’s my castle. My guards are right outside the door. I’m safe here.” His voice was wavering.

I took a step closer to him, only barely resisting the urge to cringe at my unearned confidence. I took a deep breath and told him in a very quick summary all that I had heard at the tavern.

He had just opened his mouth as if to respond when a guard burst in. One look in his eyes told me that he’d heard what I’d told the prince and that he was most definitely not on our side.

He drew his sword and lunged toward the prince. The prince dived out of the way, but in doing so, tripped over a nearby chair and fell to the ground. I guess he wasn’t one for fighting.

Without thinking, I drew my knife and leaped onto the traitorous guard’s back. In the moment I’d caught him off guard, I managed to stab him in the arm, causing him to drop his sword and fall down in shock. He hit his head on the stone floor and didn’t get back up. I looked at the blood splattered on my knife with both horror and astonishment. And also… pride.

 I knelt down to make sure he was still alive (he was) and walked over to the prince, who was still on the ground.

He had gone completely white and looked as if he was having trouble breathing. I held out my hand and gave him a nervous laugh, partly from exhilaration and partly from the knowledge that I was in way over my head.

“See?” I said. “I wasn’t lying.”

He used my hand to pull himself up and nodded slowly. “I guess you weren’t,” he said. “You really just stabbed that guard.” He then looked down and his face flushed. “And I’m wearing a nightgown.”

After a beat of silence, he cleared his throat. “Um… w-who are you, exactly?”

“My name’s Kytte,” I replied, blushing because I knew how insignificant a fact it was. “But I’m not actually anyone important. Like I said, I just happened to overhear some people talking about how they were going to… you know.”

He flashed me an uncertain grin. “I’m Beri,” he said. “I mean, I’m Berimund.” He furrowed his brow as he realized his mistake. “Prince Berimund.”

I smirked. “Yes, I know. Actually, I’m pretty sure everybody in the kingdom knows.”

He laughed awkwardly and then seemed to notice the unconscious guard on the floor. I followed his gaze.

“We need to leave before he wakes up,” I said.

He nodded as his smile disappeared. “Follow me.” He walked over to a tapestry on the wall and moved it aside. Grabbing ahold of a few stones in the wall, he pulled to reveal a hidden passageway. He motioned for me to follow him in, so I did.

Before he shut the door he glanced at me. “Would it be okay if I changed first?”

“There’s a man lying in a pool of his own blood in your bedroom and you want to get changed?”

He blinked. “Oh, yes. Right. Sorry.”

I rolled my eyes and helped him pull the heavy stone door closed.

“Even the guards don’t know about these tunnels,” he said as we walked down the dark and narrow path. “They were designed as a way for members of the royal family to remain safe even if their own kingdom turned against them.” He turned back to look at me thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s the exact situation we’re in now.”

We walked in the tunnels for a long time, sometimes having to wait for a few minutes at a time to ensure passing guards and staff wouldn’t hear us. 

I told the prince about Raimond, and about how all I wanted was to run far, far away from the Sleeping Wolf. He told me that he’d never wanted to become king. 

It was no secret in the kingdom that nearly everyone thought Berimund’s father, King Edwardus, had been a terrible ruler. He’d gotten us into conflicts with three out of the four of Orinnath’s neighboring countries and seemed to have no idea on how to get us out of them. Many families had lost sons, husbands, and fathers in pointless border disputes. This was likely why the assassins had been able to turn so many people to their side.

Berimund was afraid he’d be even worse than his father at ruling. He was (in his own opinion) too awkward and not nearly commanding enough to be an efficient king. Not to mention the fact that he was terrible at most traditional “royal” activities, such as horseback riding and swordsmanship. 

He also revealed that after the death of the queen when Berimund was six, his father had become more distant, offering much less guidance than a young boy (particularly one meant to be king) needed. 

During our conversation in the long, secret passageways of the palace, we discovered that we both felt trapped in lives we didn’t belong in.

“I think the only time I really felt like a prince,” Berimund said, “was when I was ten and this servant boy a couple years older than me broke my father’s favorite pocket watch while cleaning it. I saw him do it, and he was terrified. People have been whipped for much less. So I told my father it was me.”

“Did he punish you?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah. He gave me a bruise on my face that lasted two weeks and I wasn’t allowed out of my room for twice that. But taking the fall for that kid felt… good.” He looked down at his hands. “It made me feel strong, which isn’t something I experience often.”

Berimund fell silent and I glanced over to see him blushing.

“I haven’t felt strong in a long time either,” I admitted.

“Really? You seem so… fearless.”

I laughed. “Thanks. But every day I stay at the tavern I feel more and more powerless.”

“You know,” said Berimund, “these paths lead all the way to an exit near the back of the palace. There’s a chest near the exit that has supplies and money, in case anybody in my family ever needed a quick escape. If we took the money and supplies, we could get a horse from the stables, get your brother, and ride out of the country.”

I raised my eyebrows at the audacity of the idea. “You wouldn’t mind if you never got to be king?” I asked.

Berimund looked at me and laughed. “Of course I wouldn’t. Look, they may be trying to kill me, but I think that whoever the assassins put in charge of the throne would do a much better job than me.”

I shook my head in disbelief, but at the same time, I was ecstatic. It was a wild notion, but even just thinking about the fact that Raimond and I could leave this life behind gave me more hope than I’d had in a long time. 

“Oh no.”

I looked up and saw what Berimund had seen. The passage had collapsed, resulting in a mound of stones that filled the tunnel to the brim. 

I ran forward and rushed to pull the rocks off the pile, but I could barely even lift one.

“Kytte, that’s not going to work.”

I shook my head and pulled at a large rock, barely jumping out of the way before it fell right where my feet had been.

I stared at the pile. “Maybe you’re right. That was one of the smaller ones, too.”

“Okay.” Berimund swallowed. “This is fine, there’s another way out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t sound sure.”

He bit his lip and turned around. “There should be a hidden exit somewhere before here. Don’t worry, we’ll find it.”

We searched the sides of the passage we had just walked through for about thirty minutes before Berimund shot my an enthusiastic smile.

“Found it!”

The door was well hidden, but when I looked closely, I could see the four holes in the side of the door, meant for a hand.

“So, are we ready?”

Berimund hesitated. “Well, there is one thing,” he said, shifting. “The door opens into the great hall.”

“The great hall? Berimund, that is the worst possible place!”

“I didn’t make the tunnel, Kytte!”

I rolled my eyes and put my ear against the cool stone of the door. It was faint, but outside, I could hear people walking around and shouting to one another.

I paled. “Berimund, they’re shouting about you,” I said. “How do you expect us to get out of the castle through a room of people who want you dead?”

He sucked in a breath. “There’s a door on the other side. It meets back up to this passage, we would have ended up in the same place if that tunnel hadn’t collapsed.”

I nodded. “Okay. But it doesn’t matter. We can’t get there.”

Berimund turned to me, and bit his lip in concentration. “I think that at this point, the best we can do is run across the hall.”

“What?”

“We’ll run across.”

“We’ll get caught!”

“We’ll run fast.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“Just listen,” Berimund said. “The door to the exit passage has a deadbolt on the inside, so it will be impossible for anyone to follow us, and nobody knows where it lets out.”

I was doubtful, but I didn’t see another option, and I just wanted to get out of this damn castle. I sighed and nodded. “Whenever you’re ready then.”

Berimund pushed open the stone door that led into the great hall. I winced at the level of noise that the door made, and saw with a panic that the guards on the top of the staircase across the hall had already begun running down, swords in hand. I guess none of the guards were on our side today.

Seeing the fear in Berimund’s eyes, I grabbed his hand in mine and began sprinting across the great hall. There was a tapestry, which Berimund scrambled to push aside. My heart sank as I saw the guards rapidly coming closer. Berimund began pushing the door open.

“This one’s a lot heavier,” he grunted. I helped him push it open enough that we could squeeze in. 

As soon as we got in, I attempted to push the door closed.

Berimund turned to me with a pained expression. “Kytte, there’s no time, they have archers!”

I continued to close the door. “But the deadbolt-”

“There isn’t time!”

I refused to stop. If we didn’t lock the door then they’d catch up to us in less than a minute, and we’d be trapped in this tunnel.

In an act of desperation, Berimund stepped in front of me and pushed me away from the door onto the ground. Just as he did, an arrow came flying through the small gap that remained between the door and the wall and lodged itself directly into Berimund’s chest.

My eyes widened as he used the last of his strength to push the door closed and turn the deadbolt. Then he collapsed.

I rushed to him and looked in horror at the blood that was soaking through his nightgown. I gently lifted his head with my hands.

He looked up at me and gave me a small smile. “You can take the money. For you and your brother. It should-” He gasped in pain.

“No, no! This can’t happen.” I was speaking quickly. “This is my fault, I shouldn’t have tried to close the door.” My breath caught in my throat. “You can’t die like this, that means the assassins win.”

He nodded slightly, and I could tell it pained him to do it. “I know,” he whispered, “but it’s okay.”

“How?” I felt a tear run down my cheek and fall into the pool of blood forming on the floor. “How is any of this okay?”

“Well,” He contemplated, “We’re both free now. You wanted to leave the tavern with your brother. Now you can. I didn’t want to be king. Now I won’t be. It’s obviously not ideal, but-” He groaned and it was clear he didn’t have much time left. “Kytte, I wanted to say thank you for trying to save my life.”

I shook my head. “But I failed.”

“You just risked your life to save a stranger that the majority of the kingdom wants dead. There are very few people who would - or could - do that. Really, thank you.”

I stared at him for a few moments, then nodded. “You’re welcome,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

He closed his eyes. “Goodbye, Kytte. It was a pleasure-” He gasped in pain. “M-meeting you.” 

A moment later. his ragged breathing came to a stop.

“Bye, Beri.”

With a deep breath, I stood, wiped away the rest of my tears, and traveled alone down the rest of the passage. I soon came across an archway that led somewhere else, likely to our original path.

“Damn rocks.”

Traveling further, I found the chest and took enough money and supplies for Raimond and me to pay our debts with Krull and start new lives far away from here. 

As I finally came to the end of the passage, I knew I was leaving a different person than I came. I was stronger now. And free. But the price was far from worth it. I looked back down the winding stone tunnel with a tight throat and a stone in my stomach.

“I’m sorry, Beri.”