Kat woke to darkness, the kind of deep, quiet darkness that came just before dawn.
For a moment, she didn’t know where she was—the bed was too soft, the air smelled wrong, the sounds were unfamiliar.
Her heart gave a small, panicked flutter, and she lay perfectly still, trying to orient herself in the blackness.
Then she remembered.
The inn.
The journey north.
Her new life.
The panic subsided, replaced by something else.
Something that felt almost like…
anticipation.
She lay still, listening.
The inn was silent except for the distant creak of settling wood and the soft whisper of wind against the shutters.
No footsteps in the corridor.
No voices.
No sound of her mother’s sharp heels on marble floors, no whisper of servants moving through the halls with their eyes averted.
Everyone was still asleep.
Kat sat up slowly, careful not to make the bed creak.
Through the gap in the shutters, she could see the faintest hint of gray touching the eastern sky.
Dawn was coming, but it hadn’t arrived yet.
This was the in-between time, the quiet hour when the world held its breath before waking.
She should go back to sleep.
They had another long day of travel ahead.
Renna had said they’d be on the road for hours, and Kat would need her rest.
But she felt restless, awake in a way that had nothing to do with being rested.
Her mind was too full, her body too aware of the strangeness of everything around her.
The softness of the bed.
The warmth of the blankets.
The absence of fear pressing down on her chest like a weight.
And there was something else.
Something she couldn’t quite name, but that hummed through her veins like a song she’d forgotten the words to.
Freedom.
The word whispered through her thoughts like a secret, like something precious and fragile that might shatter if she spoke it aloud.
She was alone in this room, with no one watching her, no one telling her what to do or where to be.
The door wasn’t locked.
She could get up if she wanted to.
She could dress herself.
She could walk around.
She could—
She could go outside.
The thought made her heart race, made her breath catch in her throat.
At home, she’d never been allowed to wander freely.
The library had been her prison, and on the rare occasions she’d been permitted elsewhere in the manor, there had always been someone watching, someone ready to scold or report back to her mother.
Even in the gardens—the few times she’d been allowed there—a maid had stood nearby, watching to make sure Kat didn’t touch anything she shouldn’t, didn’t wander too far, didn’t do anything that might bring shame on the family. The source of this chapter is novelping.com.
“You’re not to be trusted on your own, Katriana,” her mother had said more than once.
“You’re clumsy.
Careless.
You’ll hurt yourself, or worse, you’ll be seen by someone important.
Do you want people to see you stumbling around like a fool?
Do you want them to know what we have to deal with?”
So, Kat had stayed in her room, in her library, in the small spaces she’d been allotted.
She’d learned to be still, to be quiet, to take up as little space as possible.
But here, now, in this quiet moment before the world woke up…
No one had told her she couldn’t go outside.
No one had locked her door.
No one was watching.
Kat slipped out of bed, her bare feet silent on the wooden floor.
The boards were cool beneath her soles, smooth and worn from years of use.
She moved to where her blue traveling dress hung over the chair, the fabric soft and practical in a way her gowns at home had never been.
She dressed quickly, her fingers working through the familiar motions of ties and fastenings.
The dress was simple, designed for travel, and she had it on in moments.
No elaborate buttons.
No complicated lacings that required a maid’s assistance.
No corset.
No layers of petticoats.
Just the dress and her chemise beneath it.
The absence of restriction felt strange, almost scandalous.
She could breathe fully, could move without the rigid structure of boning pressing into her ribs.
It was like being unbound after years of confinement.
She pulled on her stockings and boots, lacing them as quietly as she could.
Her fingers trembled slightly—from cold or nerves, she wasn’t sure.
Her cloak hung by the door, and she wrapped it around her shoulders, grateful for its warmth.
The wool was thick and well-made, far more practical than the delicate silk cloaks she’d worn at home.
Then she stood there, her hand on the door latch, her heart pounding so hard she was sure someone would hear it.
She could do this.
She could just…
go outside.
Walk around.
No one had told her she couldn’t.
No one had forbidden it.
But what if someone saw her?
What if Renna or Aldric woke and found her gone?
What if they thought she was trying to run away, or that she was being foolish, or—
No.
She pushed the thoughts away. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
Renna had been kind.
Aldric had been respectful.
They weren’t her parents.
They weren’t Marcus.
They had no reason to punish her for simply…
existing.
Kat lifted the latch slowly, wincing at the soft click.
The door opened without a sound—someone kept the hinges well-oiled—and she slipped into the corridor.
It was dark and empty, the other doors all closed.
She could hear soft snoring from one of the rooms—probably Aldric or one of the guards.
The sound was deep and rhythmic, oddly comforting in its normalcy.
Renna’s door was silent, but Kat imagined the warrior woman sleeping with the same quiet efficiency she brought to everything else.
Kat moved toward the stairs, each step careful and deliberate.
The wooden steps creaked under her weight, and she froze each time, her breath held, waiting to see if anyone would wake.
Waiting for a door to open, for someone to demand what she thought she was doing.
No one did.
The common room was empty; the fire burned down to embers that cast a faint orange glow across the wooden tables and chairs.
The innkeeper and his family were still asleep somewhere in the back, and the silence felt almost sacred, like she was the only person awake in the entire world.
Kat crossed to the front door and lifted the heavy bar as quietly as she could.
It was heavier than she’d expected, and her arms trembled with the effort, but she managed to set it aside without making too much noise.
The door swung open, and cold morning air rushed in, carrying the scent of damp earth and woodsmoke and something else—something green and alive, like growing things and open spaces.
She stepped outside and closed the door behind her, her heart racing with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.
The world was gray and hushed, caught in that liminal space between night and day.
The sky was lightening in the east, a pale wash of color that promised sunrise—soft pinks and golds bleeding into the deep blue gray of retreating night.
Mist clung to the ground in wispy patches, curling around the bases of trees and drifting across the road like ghostly fingers.
Everything was damp with dew, and the air tasted clean and sharp in her lungs.
Kat stood on the inn’s front step and just breathed.
She’d never been outside alone before.
Never stood beneath an open sky without someone watching, without someone ready to drag her back inside before she could embarrass the family.
Never felt the morning air on her face without permission, without supervision, without the constant awareness that she was being judged and found wanting.
It was terrifying.
It was wonderful.
It was both at once, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders and walked around the side of the inn, following the sound of soft huffing and the smell of hay and horses.
Her boots left dark prints in the dew-wet grass, and she watched them appear behind her—evidence of her passage, proof that she had been here, that she existed.
The stable was a long, low building attached to the back of the inn.
Warm light spilled from the cracks between the wooden boards, golden and inviting, and Kat could hear movement inside—the stamp of hooves, the rustle of hay, the occasional snort.
Someone had already lit a lantern inside, though she couldn’t imagine who would be up this early.
Her heart began to race again, but this time it wasn’t from fear.
Horses.