Princess Willowyn's Arc

Chapter 24 of 70

Willowyn packed by candlelight. She folded two tunics into her bag and rolled a blanket tight. The map her mother gave her lay on top, its ink still fresh. The white minx watched from the bed, curled on the pillow. Willowyn worked fast, afraid that if she slowed, she would not leave at all. She reached for her cloak last. Not the silver gown of a princess, but a dark cloak with a deep hood, made for roads and cold nights. She had chosen it for the world outside, where no one would bow. She swung it over her shoulders and pulled the hood back. In the mirror she saw a traveler, not a princess. Her chest lifted. This was the shape of her freedom. A knock came. Elara stood in the doorway. The queen wore her white gown, her silver braid loose over one shoulder, her hand resting on her round belly. She looked at the packed bag, then at the cloak. Her green eyes filled. "You are truly going," Elara said. "I am." Willowyn's voice stayed steady, though her hands did not. Elara crossed the room and touched the dark wool at her daughter's throat. "This suits you better than any crown." She tried to smile. It broke. "I only wish you did not go now." Willowyn already felt the pull. "The baby comes in summer." "Yes." Elara took her hand and pressed it to her belly. The child kicked, firm and quick. Willowyn's breath caught. "He knows your touch," the queen whispered. "He will want his sister." Willowyn stared at her packed bag. The roads waited. Raven waited in the courtyard. Kai waited across the sea. She had spent a year earning this door. Now her mother's belly rose warm under her palm, and a small foot pushed back at her. "I could stay," Willowyn said. The words surprised her. "Until the birth. A few months more." Elara held her gaze a long moment. Then she shook her head. "No." She closed Willowyn's fingers over the map. "If you stay for this, you will find another reason. And another. I know, because I did." She lifted her chin. "Go. Heal your lands. Come back and tell your brother where you have been." Willowyn's throat burned. She saw the cost written plain on her mother's wet face, and saw her mean it anyway. She kissed Elara's cheek. She lifted the minx to her shoulder. She shouldered the bag. At the door she stopped. "Send word when he comes," she said. "However far I am." "I will," Elara promised. Willowyn pulled the hood up and stepped into the hall. Her boots echoed on pale stone. She did not look back, because looking back would break her. She walked out of the keep alone, free at last, and did not yet know a single road ahead.