Beneath the Silver Tree

The decision was made.

Elara would leave the palace tonight.

For the first time in years, she had chosen her own path. Yet, as the weight of that choice settled over her, a quiet fear gnawed at the edges of her resolve. She had spent so long trapped in this gilded prison that the thought of stepping beyond its walls felt like stepping into the unknown.

Would she truly be free?

Or was she walking into something far worse?

She forced herself to push the thought away. There was no turning back now.

The night was creeping closer. Every passing hour felt heavier, more suffocating. The palace halls had always been dangerous, but tonight, every glance, every whisper, felt like a trap waiting to spring.

She could not risk suspicion.

So she played her role one last time.

Dinner was served in the grand dining hall, just as it had been every night since her marriage to the king. Long tables adorned with gold-trimmed plates stretched across the chamber, but only a select few nobles were permitted to dine in the king's presence.

Elara sat beside King Aldred, her posture poised, her expression unreadable. Her fingers curled delicately around the silver goblet of wine, though she barely took a sip.

The king was in an unusually quiet mood. He watched her from the corner of his eye, his fingers tapping idly against the wooden table.

He knows something.

The thought sent a ripple of unease through her.

But she remained composed, as she always did.

"Are you unwell, my queen?" Aldred finally spoke, his voice smooth, but laced with an edge too sharp to ignore.

Elara lifted her gaze to meet his. "Not at all, my lord. I am merely tired."

Aldred hummed, swirling his goblet of wine. "Strange. I was told you were seen walking the halls quite a bit today."

Her breath hitched, but she did not allow her expression to falter.

She had been careful. Had someone been watching her?

She smiled, tilting her head slightly. "Is it so strange for a queen to walk in her own palace?"

Aldred chuckled softly, but there was no warmth in it. "Not at all," he mused. "Unless, of course, she has reason to be restless."

Elara felt the words like a dagger pressed against her throat.

This was not a casual remark. It was a test.

She forced herself to exhale smoothly. "I have no reason to be restless," she said, her voice steady. "I am exactly where I am meant to be."

The king's lips curled into something that might have been a smile—if not for the cold calculation behind it.

"Of course," he murmured. "My queen belongs here."

Elara dipped her head in a small nod, hiding the fury burning in her chest.

For years, she had belonged to him.

But not after tonight.

After dinner, Elara retreated to her chambers.

Her ladies-in-waiting helped her change into a silk nightgown, combed her hair, and lit the bedside candles. She dismissed them earlier than usual, claiming exhaustion.

The moment the door closed, she moved.

She gathered only what she needed—a dark cloak, a pouch of gold coins she had managed to hide away over the years, and a single dagger.

She could not afford to carry more. Anything too noticeable would draw suspicion.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

She turned toward the ornate desk in the corner of the room.

A single sheet of parchment sat before her.

Her fingers trembled as she dipped the quill into ink.

She hesitated, then began to write.

Aldred,

By the time you read this, I will be gone.

You have taken everything from me—my freedom, my choices, my life. But tonight, I am taking something back.

Do not follow me. If you do, know that I will not return willingly.

She paused, gripping the quill tightly. Then, with careful precision, she signed her name.

Elara.

Folding the letter, she placed it in the center of the desk. It was a dangerous risk, but she wanted him to know.

He had ruled her life for too long.

This was the one thing she would take from him herself.

The palace was eerily silent when Elara stepped into the corridor.

A cloak wrapped tightly around her, she moved swiftly, keeping to the shadows. Her heart pounded in her ears with every step.

She had memorized the guards' schedules over the years, but tonight, she could not afford a single mistake.

As she neared the northern gate, her pulse quickened.

Kael was waiting.

Dressed in dark armor, his sword strapped to his back, he stood hidden beneath the stone archway. The torchlight flickered against his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw.

When his eyes met hers, something in them softened—but only for a moment.

"Elara," he breathed, stepping closer. "Are you ready?"

She nodded, though her hands trembled. "Yes."

Kael reached for her, gently grasping her hand. His warmth steadied her.

"Then we go now."

They moved swiftly, sticking to the shadows. The northern gate was just ahead—their only way out.

But then—

A voice shattered the silence.

"Stop them!"

Elara's heart dropped.

Footsteps thundered behind them. The clanking of armor. The sharp sound of swords being drawn.

The king's guards.

Kael reacted instantly, pushing Elara behind him as he unsheathed his sword.

"Run," he ordered, his voice deadly calm.

But she didn't.

She couldn't leave him.

The guards rushed forward, and the night exploded into chaos.

Kael moved like a storm, his blade flashing under the moonlight. He fought with the precision of a man who had seen battle countless times, cutting down the first guard with swift efficiency.

But more were coming.

Elara's breath came in short gasps. She had never wielded a sword, never trained for battle like Kael had—but she refused to stand by and do nothing.

Her fingers tightened around the dagger hidden in her cloak.

Another guard lunged toward Kael.

Elara moved without thinking.

She stepped forward, slashing out with the blade. The steel bit into flesh, and the man let out a strangled cry before stumbling back.

Blood stained her hands.

She had never taken a life before.

Her body trembled, but she forced herself to keep moving.

Kael grabbed her wrist. "Elara, we have to go—now."

She nodded, gripping his hand as they broke into a sprint.

The northern gate was just ahead—open, waiting.

They had one chance.

With a final burst of speed, they passed through the archway and into the night beyond.

They didn't stop running.

The castle disappeared behind them, swallowed by the darkness of the forest.

Elara didn't look back.

She had left behind everything she had ever known.

And for the first time in her life—

She was free.