Royale (Book #1 Royale Series) {Under Revision}

Chapter Eighteen {Revised}

Juliana

     It takes every ounce of will in my body to comply with my attacker's demands as she swiftly leads me through the darkness. I quickly take note of how effortlessly she maneuvers her way through the palace grounds. She almost knows the land better than I do myself. She's been here before. The thought itself feels like the knife she has poised at my neck. I swallow the lump forming in my throat and chase the tears back.

     I try to take note of where we're going, but it's so dark and eventually, we've descended so deep within the palace grounds that I have no idea where we are or how I will get back. Get back in the event my kidnapper doesn't kill me, that is.

     Eventually, we approach what appears to be an ordinary bushel. My attacker keeps her grip around me firm as she vehemently kicks against the bushel. Though she needn't have tried so hard to keep me close. Even I could figure out that at this point, attempting to escape would be a fool's errand. The girl is both faster and stronger than me, and I have absolutely no idea where I would go. She'd catch me before I even made it a meter.

     She yanks me down and I nervously yelp in response.

     "Shh!" she admonishes, placing an angry finger against her lips. "I don't want them to know that I've brought you here."

     Despite the immediate danger I'm in, I cannot help but roll my eyes.

     "You mean the family you stole me from? Well, I thought that was obvious."

     She harshly tugs me closer to her once again.

     "No, the rebels, you idiot," she says through clenched teeth.

     "The rebels? What are you—"

     I am interrupted by her hissing at me.

     "Look, I mean you no harm, Princess. But if you say one more word before we get where we're going, I'm going to hurt you."

     Irritation floods through me, temporarily blocking the fear I feel.

     "Well, I sincerely apologize for my lack of kidnap victim etiquette. I'll be sure to—"

     Before I can utter the rest of my sentence or even process the movement, the girl's fist collides with my eye.

     I double backward, temporarily released from the girl's tight grip on my arm. My hand finds the eye the girl has just punched me in and immediately, I can feel it beginning to swell.

     "I'm sorry," the girl says, a softness slightly overlapping the edge in her voice. "But I cannot help you if the rebels find out you're here. So even though you have no reason to, except it literally being your only option, you need to trust me."

     She stares at me, I suppose, waiting for a response. My stunned silence will have to suffice, however, as my body has still not recovered from being abruptly punched in the face and my throat has temporarily lost its ability to produce speech.

     Once again, she forcefully pulls me toward her. She uses her free arm to reach into the bushel. What she's hoping to find is unclear. Finally, she roughly pulls on something and the patch of ground that the bushel was just sitting on opens up to reveal a dark, underground path.

     "Let's go," the girl says, trying to lead me under, but I resist.

     For fear of getting punched again, I don't express my reservations about going to some dark, unknown tunnel underground. But I do shake my head and refuse to comply.