Chapter 5
The Royal Gardens of Korthus were a triumph of cruelty disguised as beauty. While the rest of the capital was a landscape of obsidian and iron, the gardens were kept unnaturally lush by siphoned Aetherian springs that pulsed with a faint, stolen blue light. Moving through the palace at midnight was an exercise in lethal choreography; Leonard knew the patrol patterns of the Silver Scouts—the rhythmic clank-hiss of their armor and the way they lingered near the heat-vents of the lower levels. He moved through the shadows like a smudge of charcoal, his dark, soot-stained tunic acting as perfect camouflage against the black stone walls.
When he reached the fountain of the "Weeping Maiden," he saw her.
Princess Clara was leaning against the marble basin, her silhouette framed by silver moonlight. She had traded her armor for a simple gown of deep indigo, but her dual blades were still strapped to her hips. Even in repose, she was a weapon.
"You are late," she whispered, not turning around as he emerged from the hedges.
"The General's eyes are everywhere, Clara," Leonard replied, his voice a low, cautious rasp. He stepped into the light of the fountain, the water's spray cooling his feverish skin. "He has an enchanted mirror in the lab. He watched you today. He knows about our... walks."
Clara spun around, her gray eyes widening with a flash of alarm before settling into a cold, hard resolve. "Then the clock has run out. My father met with Valerius this evening. The marriage contract has been signed. The ceremony is set for the spring equinox."
Leonard felt a cold stone settle in his stomach. The equinox was only three weeks away. "Valerius doesn't want a wife, Clara. He wants a bloodline. He's building a suit of armor—the Void-Plate—that is designed to absorb the Celestial Pulse. He's trying to become a God."
"And you are helping him build it," she said, her voice tinged with a bitterness that stung more than any lash.
"I am sabotaging it," Leonard corrected, stepping closer. He pulled the Tome from his waistband and held it out. "I've tuned the resonance to a specific frequency. It will pass his tests, but it will shatter the moment it's hit by a pure harmonic note. But for that to work, we need to be gone. If I am here when that armor fails, I won't survive the night."
Clara took the book, her fingers lingering against his for a heartbeat too long. "I've made contact with a guard named Garrick. He has agreed to help us reach the North Gate on the night of the New Moon."
"That's only four days away," Leonard breathed.
"It's our only window," Clara said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The King will be celebrating the arrival of the tribute from the Southern Isles. The palace will be drowning in wine and arrogance. It is the only time the scouts are distracted."
She looked at him, her gaze searching his face. "If we do this, Leonard, there is no coming back. We will be hunted to the ends of the earth. Are you ready to be a ghost for the rest of your life?"
Leonard reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he touched the hilt of one of her blades. "I've been a ghost for three years, Clara. The only thing that made the shadows bearable was the thought that one day, I would see Korthus burn."
He looked into her eyes, and for the first time, he saw the vulnerability behind the Iron Princess. She wasn't just running from a marriage; she was running from her father, her legacy, and the only world she had ever known.
"I will protect you," Leonard vowed. "Even if I have no magic, I have the iron. And I have the truth."
Clara leaned her forehead against his, a ragged breath escaping her. "Then it is a pact. The Null Prince and the Traitor Princess. Let them hunt us. We will give them a chase that will last a millennium."
Above them, the moon shifted into the third house, its pale light reflecting in the fountain. It was a beautiful, quiet moment—the last they would have before the storm broke.
"Go," Clara whispered, pushing him back into the shadows. "Garrick will find you in the forge tomorrow. He will give you the signal."
Leonard nodded, his heart pounding with a mixture of terror and exhilaration. As he melted back into the darkness, he looked up at the Obsidian Palace, its spires clawing at the stars. It had been his prison for three years. In four days, it would be his starting line.