Chapter 7: The King’s Display - How the Stars Fall

The post lady smiled as Ryker handed his letter over. She tucked it in a half-full basket near her side. “This will go out later this afternoon when the delivery man rides through,” she assured him.

Ryker tipped his head in thanks and exited the post shop. As he promised himself, he enclosed some extra money notes inside an envelope to his parents, alongside a lengthy letter updating them on anything and everything he could think of that would satisfy their need to know all the details of his very boring life as a bounty hunter. He was certain his mother would be anxiously waiting by her letterbox soon. It had been nearly a month since he last wrote.

The sun was warm. Ryker blinked as he stepped outside, his eyes adjusting to the light. It was early afternoon, and he’d come into the city to purchase a few necessities for home. Candles, fresh meat, fruit, and some sugar cubes for his morning coffee.

On the way to the grocers, someone called after him.

“Ryker Thornbrooke!”

The voice had him spinning around. “Pete!?” Ryker said, extending a hand.

The man gripped his arm, grinning. Moss-green eyes peeked from under a wash of sandy hair. “How are you, friend? I haven’t seen you in a while?”

“I’m well, and yourself?”

“Well enough, how’s the hunting?”

“Wish it was deer or rabbits—not humans,” Ryker replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “How’s the palace treating you?”

The light haired male with broad shoulders sighed as he folded across his chest. “Well, the workload is intense, but the pay is good, so I can’t really complain.”

Ryker had known Peter for a couple of years now, having met him in one of the city’s many taverns one night as they both ordered the same drink at the same time. That moment birthed a friendship Ryker hadn’t known he needed at the time.

“I hear you brought the king his prized star?” Peter went on as they stood in the shade of a store window.

Internally, Ryker winced at the thought of Nova. It had been three weeks since he left her with King Branoc. Three weeks of her haunting eyes invading his dreams. Three weeks of wishing he could undo it all.

“Yes, I did. Do you know of her wellbeing? I assume the king values her highly, and she’s been treated with care?” Ryker asked with interest.

Peter shook his head. “I don’t get to see a lot down in the kitchens, but the maids do chatter. Seems as though the king has been in a mood lately.”

Ryker’s jaw clenched briefly. “Do you think he is harming her in any way?”

He’d never seen it with his own eyes, but something in Ryker’s gut told him that Branoc would forcefully do whatever it took to get what he wanted.

“I can’t say, to be honest. But the maids ... as I said, they chatter. It seems no one has seen her since his most recent outburst. ” Peter winced.

Fury built inside Ryker’s veins. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but when he left her in the throne room that day, he knew it was a mistake. That he should have never freely handed her over to the king.

A trumpet sounded, bringing Ryker and Peter’s conversation to a sudden halt. Crowds gathered in the streets, pushing them closer to the walls of the stone building. The sound of horses’ hooves and the clamour of onlookers drew Ryker’s attention to the approaching procession. His heart sank as he saw King Branoc at the forefront on top of a pure white horse, leading a parade of guards and finely dressed courtiers.

Then, Ryker’s gaze locked onto a cage-like carriage rolling behind the king’s horse. Inside, Nova sat, looking frail and depressed. Her once luminous skin was still as pale as the day he left her with the king. There was no celestial glow . . . her entire essence was dimmed. She appeared thinner than he remembered, her eyes hollow and filled with a deep sadness.

Branoc was parading her around like a prized possession—touchable only to him.

What had Ryker done—better yet, what was the king doing?!

This was not how he thought she would be treated. Sure, he thought the king might be demanding in his words as most kings are, but he’d hoped that living in a palace meant she was being treated well enough. “It doesn’t look good, does it Ry?” Peter murmured.

Shaking his head, Ryker glanced at his friend. “No, it does not.”

Fury surged through him like a wildfire. The sight of Nova, so vulnerable and mistreated, ignited a rage he could scarcely contain. His fists clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms as he struggled to maintain his composure amidst the townspeople.

“King’s like him should lose their heads,” Ryker said through gritted teeth.

“If anyone hears you say that, friend, they will hang you for treason.”

Ryker huffed. “He might be the ruler of Emberfell, but in my eyes, he’s not a king. I’d like to see them try.”

Peter gave him a wary look. “Don’t be doing anything daft.”

With a shrug, Ryker watched as the procession moved past them, stepping further into the shadows so he wouldn’t be seen by the king or Nova. “Let’s catch up for a drink soon.”

Peter nodded and slapped Ryker on the back. “Yes, I best get back to it. A whiskey is on me next time. It’s been too long.”

Ryker tipped his head to the chef and spun on his heel. There were a few more items on his list that he needed before he went home. He’d relax for the rest of the afternoon, because come nightfall . . . he probably wouldn’t rest again—for a while. He was about to throw out all his dreams of retiring early and go on his biggest undertaking yet, but this time he wouldn’t be the hunter—he would be hunted.

* * *

Under the cloak of nightfall, Ryker watched the palace walls from the tree line, waiting for the guards to cross over. The moon cast a silvery glow over the stone fortress, its light intermittently obscured by drifting clouds. Torches lined the top of the castle walls, emitting an orange glow on the lichen and moss encrusted stone barrier. Only a few more seconds and the guards would switch posts. He could take them out with dreamroot darts. If he took both guards out, it would allow him a decent window of time that he could scale the barricade and jump down to the gardens below.

Was this the stupidest thing he’d ever done? To date, yes. Was he going to stop? Absolutely not.

He’d spent the rest of the afternoon drumming up a very loose sort of plan. Get into the palace undetected, find Nova, somehow try to convince her to come with him, and then escape back out of the palace without getting caught. There hadn’t been time for the thorough research he’d usually relied on for a mission like this. Instead, he was forced to rely solely on his instincts and a bit of luck.

The guards began to move. This was his moment.

With silent movements, Ryker pulled his blowgun from the inside of his jacket pocket, loading it with a dreamroot dart. He aimed, finding his target within seconds. In the same breath, he loaded another dart and the second guard crumpled to the ground.

Ryker crouched low in the grass, waiting to make sure the guards were definitely unconscious. He slipped through the darkness like a shadow. Silent and swift, he slipped up and over the other side, landing on the ground with a gentle thud.

He didn’t wait around to see if he’d been spotted—but no one was yelling or screaming. So far, so good.

Which room was Nova’s. Ryker had no idea, but after seeing her in the city today, he’d made the decision to free her from Branoc’s grasp, so he would search all night until he found her. Most of the higher up rooms that he could see from the ground were dark—empty. It seemed excessive to have such a large castle that didn’t actually house any people. Especially when there were so many living in the streets. This type of royal ruling made Ryker see red.

A faint glow emitted from one of the balconies, and Ryker hoped it was hers. The last thing he needed was to stumble upon some courtier who’d wail from fright and give away his presence.

Finding a section of the wall partially covered by ivy, Ryker took a deep breath and began to climb. His fingers and toes found grip in the crevices of the grey stone, and he moved swiftly, the muscles in his arms and legs burning with exertion. Every sound, from the distant hoot of an owl to the rustle of leaves, heightened his senses.

Halfway up, he paused, clinging to the wall, as a pair of guards passed below. Their voices carried in the still night air, oblivious to the intruder above. Ryker waited until their footsteps faded before continuing his ascent.

Ryker pulled himself silently over the edge of the balcony, staying in the shadows. He wasn’t prepared for what he saw as he peered around the corner of a rounded stone pillar.

There she was—Nova. Laying, curled up on the balcony floor—completely naked, her white hair sprawled on the marble tiles.

Clouds drifted past the moon, making the night darker, but he could see her glowing silhouette. The moon’s filtered beams bathed her pale skin in light. Making her light up like he’d never seen before.

Movement caught his eye, and he held his breath as a figure stepped through the billowing curtains that separated the outside from the inside.

“My lady, would you like to come in now?” the maid offered.

Nova sat up and pulled her knees close to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “No, thank you. Leave me here.”

The pain in her voice was heartbreaking, a raw tremor that cut straight through him. Her usual warmth and light seemed stripped away, leaving only vulnerability laid bare. Each word she spoke wavered, catching slightly as though she were holding back a flood of emotions.

He should go to her. Pick her up and carry her away into the night.

The maid nodded and returned to the room. Once again, Nova was on her own.

A soft sniffing sound travelled through the air and Ryker almost ran to her side, but he would have to be cautious with his timing. There was no way of knowing who was inside and out of his view.

Nova shifted, and a heavy chime drew his attention to a silver chain attached to her ankle that ran its way back towards her room. Blood boiled in Ryker’s veins. As the moon appeared from behind the clouds, her skin became clearer. Bruises mottled her skin in shades of purple, brown, and red. They spread across her arms, her neck, down her legs—marks left carelessly, thoughtlessly, by rough hands. Her whole body looked as if it had been beaten with a stick.

He wanted to kill Branoc for this. He should have known better than to leave her in the hands of the king.

There was still a chance he could fix this, right?

Ryker shook his head, took a deep breath in, and stepped out of the murky shadows.