Chapter 50: Chapter-50

After the servant was gone, Elara locked her door and sat down at her desk.

She now had confirmation: someone was still actively trying to sabotage her, even two days before departure. Someone organized enough to hire disposable pawns and smart enough not to reveal themselves.

But she also had something else: a witness. Someone who’d been on the inside, even if just barely. Someone who might notice things or remember details that could be useful later.

And someone who was now invested in keeping Elara alive, because her own survival depended on it.

She cleaned the powder traps from her trunks, reset them with fresh thread, and locked everything with triple-checked security.

Two more days.

Just two more days in this nightmare palace.

Then she’d be on a barge surrounded by her own people, heading toward uncertainty that was still better than this.

She just had to survive two more days.

…..

The day to depart…

Dawn came cold and grey. Elara stood in her emptied chambers one last time, looking at the space that had nearly become her tomb.

The trunks were gone, loaded onto carts hours ago. The bed was stripped. The desk was bare. Nothing remained except the palace furniture and ghosts of the person who’d lived here before.

The palace servants she’d been assigned—the ones who came with the chambers, not the ones she’d chosen—would stay behind. They’d maintain the quarters, keep up appearances, make it look like she might return. Let them report back to whoever was paying them to spy.

She closed the door without looking back.

In the main courtyard, her household was assembled. Elara counted heads as she approached.

Dimitri stood with Mira, Soren, and two other administrators she’d carefully selected—Petra, a logistics coordinator, and Marcus, a legal specialist. Five administrators total, all looking nervous but determined.

Off to the side stood Lisa, her personal servant. The only one she was taking. Lisa had been with her from the beginning, loyal and competent. One servant was enough—Elara didn’t need an entourage.

And behind them all, twenty-five beast knights in perfect formation, faces unreadable as always.

Thirty-one people in her household, plus herself. Thirty-two total heading to Port Crestfall.

“Everyone ready?” Elara asked.

Dimitri nodded. “All packed. Trunks are on the carts. Harbor master has been notified. We’re cleared for departure.”

“Then let’s go.”

The caravan rolled through palace gates as the sun broke over the horizon. Palace servants—the ones staying behind—lined the route, watching. Some looked curious. Some looked relieved.

Elara kept her expression calm and her back straight.

They reached the river docks an hour later. The merchant district was already bustling—cargo being loaded, sailors shouting, the smell of fish and river water thick in the air.

And there, tied to the main dock, was the ’Silver Merchant’.

***

Elara had been expecting something cramped and utilitarian. Guild Master Verin had warned her repeatedly: cargo barge, not luxury vessel, basic accommodations, merchant-class travel.

What she found was… different.

The ’Silver Merchant’ was large—much larger than she’d pictured. A flat-bottomed river barge built for heavy cargo, yes, but also clearly designed for longer journeys. The deck was clean wood, well-maintained. The cabin structures were solid, not flimsy temporary shelters.

Kael stood at the gangplank, waiting. He bowed as she approached.

“Your Highness. Welcome aboard.” He gestured to the ship. “I know my father said it would be rough, but he tends to undersell. The ’Silver Merchant’ is actually one of our better vessels.”

“It’s bigger than I expected,” Elara admitted.

“We run luxury goods to Port Crestfall—spices, fabrics, preserved foods. Can’t have cargo getting damaged, so we built for stability and protection. Plus, we occasionally transport VIP merchants who pay well for comfort.” He grinned. “You’re getting the upgraded experience without the upgraded price.”

He led her aboard. The deck bustled with merchant crew—sailors securing cargo, a navigator checking maps, two cooks already working in the open-air galley.

“Your cabins are this way,” Kael said, leading her toward the rear where a two-story cabin structure rose above the main deck.

He opened a door. “Your personal quarters, Your Highness.”

Elara stepped inside and stopped.

It was small, yes. But calling it “basic” was seriously underselling.

The cabin had a real bed—narrow but solid, with clean linens and a down pillow. A small desk with a bolted chair, well-crafted. A wardrobe built into the wall. A washbasin with running water from a gravity-fed system. A round window that opened for light and air. The wood was polished. Everything was compact but intelligently designed.

If this was a hotel, it would easily be four-star quality. Not palace luxury, but solid, comfortable, professional.

“This is merchant-class?” Elara asked.

“High-end merchant-class,” Kael corrected. “We built these cabins for guild masters and foreign traders. It’s not palace luxury—no servants’ quarters, no bathing chamber, no sitting room—but it’s comfortable for long journeys.”

“Your five administrators have cabins on this level,” he continued. “Smaller than yours but similar quality. Lisa, your servant, has a cabin below deck—still private, still comfortable. And the beast knights…” He paused. “That was complicated.”

“How so?”

“Twenty-five warriors is a lot of space. We converted one of the cargo holds. Large, well-ventilated, sleeping platforms. Not luxurious, but secure and private. They approved it this morning.”

Elara looked out her window at the river. Six days with thirty-two people plus merchant crew. Tight, but manageable.

“It’s perfect,” she said.

Kael looked relieved. “We depart in one hour.”

After he left, Elara sat on the narrow bed.

By palace standards: pathetic.

By survival standards: perfect.

Outside, she could hear her people boarding—five administrators organizing logistics, Lisa settling in, twenty-five beast knights moving with quiet efficiency.

Thirty-two people leaving everything behind.

In one hour, the ’Silver Merchant’ would pull away from the dock.

And whatever came next would be on her own terms.

She began unpacking. One hour.

Then freedom.

Or at least a new kind of danger.

Either way, it was better than staying.

.

.

.

.

At night.

Elara couldn’t sleep.

The cabin was comfortable enough—better than she’d expected, honestly. The bed was fine. The gentle rocking of the barge should have been soothing. But every time she closed her eyes, her mind raced through everything that had happened in the past two weeks.

Waking up in a dying body. The assassination attempt. Eleana’s threats. The First Consort’s warning. The sabotage. The escape.

Finally, she gave up. She pulled on a cloak and stepped out onto the deck.

The night air was cold and clean, nothing like the stale perfumed atmosphere of the palace. The river stretched dark on both sides, reflecting starlight. Behind them—far behind now—the capital was just a faint glow on the horizon.

They’d actually done it. Actually left.

“Can’t sleep either?”

Elara turned. Dimitri stood a few feet away, leaning against the railing. He looked tired but alert, still dressed despite the late hour.

“Too much in my head,” she admitted.

He nodded, moving closer but keeping a respectful distance. “Same. Keep expecting something to go wrong. An attack. The barge sinking. Something.”

“We’re not out of danger yet.”

“No. But we’re out of the palace. That’s something.” He looked back toward the distant capital glow. “I never thought I’d actually leave. Born there, raised there, figured I’d die there eventually. And then you hired me two weeks ago and now here I am on a river barge heading to Port Crestfall with twenty-five beast knights sleeping in a cargo hold.”

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