Time was, as always, their cruel enemy. One week after the clandestine meeting of Lord Herl and his Prashian patriots, a chilling proclamation was issued from the palace. The usurper, Kasiam, would ascend the throne as High King of all Reald.


    A royal wedding would be held to seal his treacherous victory, a union of Queen Amira and the would-be King. Her acceptance of the union was a bitter betrayal to Prashia that would solidify Kasiam''s claim to the throne and his iron grip on the neighboring fiefdom. It was sure that the Regent held some advantage over the Queen to gain it.


    The ceremonies would be held on midsummer''s day, leaving the ticking clock of just over a month for the patriots to act. They had a daring plan, crafted with care. Using stolen livery of the Regent''s household guard, they would infiltrate the palace and tower. A trusted ally within would ensure entrance through an unlocked postern gate, allowing them to subdue the guards and spirit the Queen and her son away under the cloak of night.


    Four brave patriots had volunteered for the mission, while Lord Herl would remain stationed at a safe house, ready to facilitate the Queen''s escape from the city. He yearned to join the rescue party and ached for it as a man of action, yet his face was well known within the palace due to his position at court. It made him too recognizable a target.


    The plan still needed something, a glaring omission. A way to distract those within the palace was required. Matthew had reached out discreetly to other lords he believed held sympathetic views. While most of the nobility seemed to rally behind Kasiam''s usurpation, a few remained steadfast in opposition, in mind if not action.


    Despite his efforts, Lord Herl''s inquiries had yielded resounding silence. Those who had dared speak out in the early days were already victims of Kasiam''s retribution, imprisoned on trumped-up charges of sedition. The remaining dissenters were silent, too cowed and afraid to raise their voices. The potential loss of their privileged positions was too daunting a sacrifice for a foreign Queen.


    Yet some hope remained like a ray of light in the darkness. That very afternoon, he''d received a secret message: Lady Whitmore was willing to meet with him circumspectly and in secret. Her husband was a sycophantic lackey of the Prince Regent, his ambitions limited to personal gain. Yet the Lady, like the patriots and Queen, was Prashian and had been Amira''s childhood friend and confidante. Matthew suspected the Lady maintained a network of contacts, perhaps even harboring spies among the palace staff.


    Wary as a deer in a meadow clearing, he approached Lady Whitmore''s opulent residence, a sanctuary of wealth nestled in the upper city just a stone''s throw from the palace. He believed there was little risk of discovery; her household was loyal to her, and her husband was at court, lingering in the Regent''s presence. Yet trepidation crept over him as he slipped into the shadows of the manor, his movements swift and cautious.


    He circled the manse, scanning for his point of entry. At last, he found it: a small kitchen window on the ground floor. The message indicated he should knock upon it three times, and after he did so, three more knocks came from within. The signal that all was clear was reassuring. He crept along the wall to a servant''s entrance, his pulse quick with anticipation. As he reached the door, it swung open, and he darted inside with a strange mix of fear and hope.


    A picture of serenity and composure, Lady Whitmore stood within, betraying no hint of the dangerous nature of their meeting. She had an ethereal beauty that defied description. Her clothing was the height of fashion, with a graceful form and delicate features, wide blue doe eyes above full pouting lips, and a cascade of blonde curls that tumbled about her shoulders. She was a portrait of exquisite elegance. He''d not met her before then but knew her father through association.


    "Lady Whitmore," he breathed when he found his voice, his admiration evident. "Thank you for meeting with me."


    "Lord Herl," she replied with a whisper as if not to disturb a sleeping house. "I couldn''t refuse. With the kingdom on the brink, who could stand idly by? Come, follow me." Without awaiting a response, she led the way, her steps as graceful as a dancer''s.


    As they walked down the hallway, his eyes swept across the interior. He was accustomed to the trappings of wealth but found himself nonetheless astounded by the opulence in her home. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, coupled with ornate rugs and lavish furnishings. It made his own home seem a humble hovel in comparison. She had a lot to lose in being caught with him.


    She led him to a sitting room with comfortable chairs before a sizable dark fireplace, a relic of winter''s chill. Gesturing for him to sit, she settled into one of the chairs herself, and he followed suit.


    "Lady," Matthew began, his voice filled with gratitude. "Again, thank you for granting me this audience, especially on such short notice, under such… circumstances."


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    "No trouble, my Lord," Her tone was direct and refreshing. "I Can''t refuse a fellow countryman, particularly one so passionate about our homeland''s standing. Now, what brings you to my door." He welcomed her straightforwardness, a refreshing change from the veiled diplomacy he typically encountered.


    "I shall be as direct as possible, my Lady," he began. "First, could you please enlighten me regarding your knowledge of the current inner workings of the palace and our Queen''s plight? It is rumored you have extensive contacts within the palace."


    Her eyes flickered with thought as she paused to weigh the extent of her revelations. It felt like an eternity before she finally spoke.


    "Lord Herl, I believe your knowledge to be equal to mine. Kasiam has an ironclad grip on the palace, and little information escapes without his sanction. I am aware, as are we all, that Queen Amira is detained within the tower, the tragic fate of Sir Praxton declared a traitor and a cruel rumor that Prince Androw is illegitimate as a product of her love for Sir Praxton. I know of several lords that have been imprisoned on charges of sedition, though whether true or not, I cannot say, but their opposition to Kasiam''s usurpation has been exposed and used against them. The Queen has agreed to marry the Prince Regent, a strategic move on his part to secure his claim to the throne. It suggests he has some leverage over her, I suspect that to be her son."


    "Yes, most of that is widely known within the court, though," he replied, hinting at skepticism. "I am curious, however, if you have further insights." It was a gamble; he didn''t expect her to offer more.


    "I do," she replied with a hint of mischief. "Sir Praxton is not, in fact, dead. He was alive and well the last time I saw him, and he is now plotting to free his beloved."


    Matthew froze, his mind awhirl. Praxton was alive! The news brought hope; he could be a powerful ally in combating Kasiam''s tyranny. Sir Chase was a respected warrior with a loyal following back home. He could rally a significant force to the patriot''s cause if they could find him and convince him to join their fight…


    "How is it that you know Sir Praxton survived?" He asked, his voice filled with wonder.


    "Until very recently, he was a guest within these very walls, my Lord," she replied with a hint of mystery.


    Lord Herl sat straighter in his chair, his curiosity piqued. "Here?" he exclaimed. Matthew couldn''t fathom the audacity of hiding so very close to their enemy. "Where has he gone, tell me? How did he come to be here?"


    She recounted how Sir Praxton had sought refuge at her doorstep on the night of the Queen''s imprisonment. It was an astonishing tale. She outlined his recovery from the wounds he had sustained on that fateful night and his disappearance only two days ago, his heart set on freeing Amira. The incredible narrative ignited a renewed sense of hope within Lord Herl.


    "Do you know where he went?" Matthew asked. He was eager to track the knight down.


    "Unfortunately, I do not," she replied with a hint of disappointment in her tone. "Praxton departed in the night without a word."


    "A shame," Matthew lamented. "Had he still been nearby, I could have got what I needed without troubling you."


    "Yet here you are. What is it that you desire from me?" The question was sharp, pointed and direct.


    "Aid and allies," he replied, his voice firm. "Others who share our determination to stop Kasiam and restore the throne to Androw." There was no point to pretense. He was committed now, for better or for worse. "Most urgently, we require some means of distraction within the palace while we liberate the Queen and Prince."


    "I am intrigued, if not convinced," she told him with a hint of curiosity. If you share your plan, I can assess whether I can be of any help."


    "I shall outline it for you," he began, his voice urgent. He described the brave group that had volunteered to infiltrate the palace under the guise of Kasiam''s guards. He told her of the trusted ally within, who would ensure they gained entry. He even boldly offered her the very date of their mission, a bare week hence, when the Prince regent would be hosting a lavish celebration for sympathetic nobles in preparation for the events to come.


    "Our challenge," he continued, "is to create a diversion significant enough to draw the palace guards away from their duties. With that done, my men should encounter no resistance in reaching the Queen. They must overcome any sentries on the tower, but that should be no issue. Then we spirit her and her son away from the palace and out of the city."


    "It is a sound plan, bold, but it should work," he felt her approval in the words. "The distraction is crucial, though. Once the Queen and Heir are free, what is your strategy?" Her pragmatic nature demanded a clear understanding of the whole.


    "We have prepared a safe house where I shall be waiting," he explained. "I cannot be seen within the palace as my notoriety in court would make us all a target. It is a secluded location, well away from prying eyes. We will wait for several days while the search is conducted, perhaps for a week. Once the initial scrutiny has subsided, we shall escape from the city. We have a way past the walls."


    She pondered the plan, her mind racing. "A good plan, as I''ve said," she replied. "I do believe I can contribute to your success."


    As he heard the words, a massive wave of relief lifted the weight from his shoulders, though he did his best to conceal it.


    "A fire!" She suggested with sparkling eyes. "A large fire in the kitchens close to the dining rooms. It must be substantial, big enough to attract the guards and staff. I have someone within who can initiate it."


    Overwhelmed and eager with newfound hope, Lord Herl agreed. As the evening progressed, they continued to refine their plan. Lady Whitmore proved to be a shrewd and skilled planner with intricate knowledge of how they could best arrange matters. Their hearts filled with determination, and with luck and their combined efforts, the daring rescue would unfold exactly as they envisioned.