The iron lock of the cell clicked—a sound so small, yet it echoed like a thunderclap in the silent dungeon. Alaric pushed the door open just enough for Kaia to slip through. He handed her a dark cloak, the fabric heavy and smelling of lavender and old parchment.
"Put this on," he whispered. "The guards at the western gate have been paid to look away for exactly five minutes. If you are not past the outer wall by then, I cannot protect you."
Kaia's hands shook as she fastened the cloak. Her heart felt as though it were trying to break out of her chest. "Why are you doing this, Alaric? If they catch you, it's not just your crown—it's your life."
Alaric looked at her, his gaze intense. "Because a crown is just a piece of metal, but a soul... a soul is irreplaceable. You taught me that, even if you didn't mean to."
He led her through the labyrinthine corridors of the castle's underbelly, moving through shadows and damp tunnels. Every sound—a distant shout, the scuttle of a rat—made Kaia flinch. Finally, they reached a small wooden door hidden behind a heavy tapestry.
"Beyond this is the forest path," Alaric said, handing her a small leather pouch. "There is enough gold here to get you across the border. Go to the neutral lands. Find a new life. Forget about the rebellion. Forget about... me."
Kaia took the pouch, her fingers brushing his. "And what about you?"
"I have a kingdom to face," he said with a sad, bitter smile. "I will tell the Council you escaped during the night. I will play the part of the angry King."
Suddenly, bells began to toll from the high cathedral towers. Clang! Clang! Clang!
"The morning patrol," Alaric hissed, his face turning pale. "They've found the empty cell. Go! Now!"
Kaia looked at him one last time, a million things unsaid. She leaned in, pressing her forehead against his for a fleeting second. "I will find my way back to you, Alaric. Not as a rebel, and not as a guard. But as someone who finally knows the man behind the mask."
Then, she turned and disappeared into the gray mist of the forest.
Alaric stood alone at the door, watching the fog swallow her whole. He took a deep breath, straightened his royal tunic, and prepared to face the storm he had just unleashed