Chapter 5 - The Catacombs of the Crown
The heavy bronze doors of the cathedral sacristy slammed shut behind them, cutting off the panicked shrieks of the court and the frantic shouting of Regent Malrec’s personal guard.
Rhys kicked a heavy oak table against the door, jamming the iron handle so it could not be easily forced open from the outside. His chest heaved beneath his ornate armor, sweat slicking the dark strands of hair clinging to his forehead. He turned his piercing gaze toward Sera, who was frantically unlatching the heavy pearl-encrusted train of the bridal gown that was currently threatening to trip her with every step.
“If we stay in this wing, Malrec’s men will have us cornered within ten minutes,” Rhys said, his voice dropping into a harsh, tactical whisper. “The royal guard he brought as an escort aren’t here to celebrate an alliance. They’re a hit squad.”
Sera ripped a stubborn pearl-stitched tier from her skirt, tearing the expensive fabric without a second thought. The street fighter in her had fully reawakened, pushing the frightened, coached princess deep down into the dark.
“You knew,” Sera accused, her eyes narrowing as she faced him across the candlelit room. “When you took my hand at the altar... you already knew they were going to shoot.”
Rhys didn't flinch from her accusation. He walked over to a heavy iron wall sconce, twisted it sharply to the left, and watched as a section of the stone floor pivoted inward with a low, grinding groan, revealing a dark, spiraling staircase plunging down into the earth.
“I knew something was rotten the moment your delegation crossed the border,” Rhys admitted, glancing back at her over his shoulder. “Amara’s father was a cautious man. He would never have agreed to this hurried union unless he was backed into a corner. When I felt your palm—when I felt that burn scar—I knew Malrec was playing a dangerous game. I just didn't realize he was stupid enough to try and murder his own decoy while my archers were stationed to secure the perimeter.”
“Your archers?” Sera scoffed, stepping closer to the dark maw of the hidden stairwell. “They were aiming at me, Rhys.”
“They were aiming at the target my captain identified as a security risk,” Rhys corrected sharply, stepping down onto the first stone step. “Fortunately, my men follow my orders, not a rogue regent’s bribes. Now, are you coming down into the dark with me, or would you prefer to stay here and wait for Malrec to finish what the arrow started?”
Sera didn’t hesitate. She grabbed a heavy iron poker from the hearth, ripped off the remainder of the restrictive bridal train so she could actually move her legs, and plunged down the stairs right behind the enemy king.
The air in the catacombs was thick with the scent of damp earth, centuries-old dust, and drying lime. They navigated a maze of forgotten tunnels beneath the cathedral, guided only by the dim, flickering glow of a single magical torch Rhys drew from a wall bracket.
“You said midnight,” Sera panted, her footsteps echoing sharply against the stone. “The bells are ringing for an execution. If Malrec has the real princess locked up in the dungeons of this palace, we have less than five hours to find her before he silences her permanently.”
“She won't be in the standard cells,” Rhys replied, his voice echoing ahead in the dark tunnel. “Malrec is paranoid, but he isn't stupid. If he staged an elaborate kidnapping or illness to swap the princess with a condemned criminal, he’s hiding her somewhere no casual guard would ever look. He’s keeping her in the Sunken Vaults—the old royal treasury beneath the citadel.”
“How do we get in?” Sera asked, ducking beneath a low stone arch. “If the vaults are secure enough to hold the crown’s gold, they’re secure enough to keep out an invading army.”
Rhys stopped abruptly, causing Sera to crash softly against his armored shoulder. He turned around, the magical light casting deep, sharp shadows across his face.
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“By walking right through the front door,” Rhys said with a faint, grim smile. “As the king of this country, I happen to know every secret brick my ancestors laid down here. But to open the inner seal of the Sunken Vaults, we need a royal blood signature. And right now... you’re the closest thing we have to a royal signature walking around.”
Sera stared at him, the weight of the realization crashing down on her shoulders. She wasn't just a decoy anymore. She was the key to unlocking a royal murder conspiracy.
