While the palace bustled with chatter and preparations, Rowan had other plans. His footsteps were careful, almost soundless as he slipped past the distracted attendants and guards making his way toward the treasury. The king, Ravik had confiscated his sword after catching him training in secret and now Rowan was determined to reclaim it.
"Damn it, where did that old man shove Rowan's sword? What, did he think hiding it was going to make me give up? Please. And yeah, it's not even Rowan's anymore, it's mine now! My sword and my damn problem. Since I'm stuck living as the pitiful Rowan, might as well take the damn perks too."
He moved swiftly between the towering shelves stacked with gilded chests and artifacts while his sharp eyes are scanning for the familiar hilt. If not for the banquet being hosted tonight with the Evercrest family, a powerful ducal house famed for their unbroken alpha bloodline across generations—he wouldn't have had this chance to sneak away. The palace's attention was elsewhere and leaving the perfect gap for him to act.
A low chuckle escaped him as he trailed his fingers along the edge of a golden chest while recalling the fragments of memories that's not even his own. "Hah, guess Rowan's memories finally turned out to be useful for once. Figures. And while all those arrogant nobles are busy stuffing their faces with wine and spitting out empty speeches like it's some kind of divine wisdom, I'll be down here actually doing something that matters and that was getting my sword back and slipping the hell out of this cursed palace."
"Ugh, seriously, what a show. I'm done rotting in here. And oh my god, is that… is that the sword?! Finally! Yesss, thank you, universe! Took forever, didn't it? Wow, applause for hiding it so well, old man, ten out of ten. Anyway, Rowan or me, whoever, we're so out of here. Sword in hand, sneak mode on, lalala~ Watch me make my dramatic exit like the main character I am."
He nearly wasted his precious time prancing around the treasury like a madman while spinning with the sword in his hands as though he'd just won a grand prize. At one point, he even planted a dramatic kiss on the hilt, whispering, "Oh, how I've missed you." It was ridiculous and it was over the top but gods, it felt good to finally have the blade back in his grip.
But reality struck fast. If he wouldn't leave right now, the celebration would turn into a disaster. He stilled while his grin was fading as the thought hit him. Getting caught here would mean not just losing the sword again but probably his head too. Muttering a curse, he tucked the weapon close and darted out and ears straining for the faintest sound of approaching steps.
After carefully making sure the corridor was empty, he hurried back toward his bedchamber. The knights he had so graciously knocked unconscious earlier were still slumped in the hallway. With a wry smile, he dragged them closer to the wall and artfully arranged them as though they'd collapsed from too much drink. From his closet stash, he got the bottles of wine he'd kept hidden, slipping them into the guards' hands like props in a stage play.
"There. Perfect," he muttered with smug satisfaction while brushing the dust off his hands as though he'd just finished some masterful performance. "Oh, look at that! Just a bunch of knights passed out drunk while on duty. How shocking and truly disgraceful! What would that old man and that sly brother of me say if they saw this, huh? Definitely not my problem though. Nope. I was never here. I'm just the poor, innocent victim who had to step over their useless, wine-soaked bodies. Honestly, you're welcome for the makeover, boys."
With the sword finally strapped to his side, he strolled back into his chamber like nothing had happened while already turning over his next move in his head.
After shoving the last of his belongings into a worn sack and checking twice that nothing useful was left behind, he sat on the edge of the bed, waiting. Then minutes dragged on like hours with every stretch of silence gnawing at his nerves. Then—clack! A stone sailed clean through the window he had left opened, skittering across the floor.
A grin tugged at his lips. "About time. Here I come."
He shot to his feet, swinging the sack over his shoulder with a flourish that would have looked theatrical if anyone had been there to see it. His clothes were no longer the polished silks of a noble but the plain garb of a commoner, a loose tunic, worn boots and a hood that cast his features in shadow. Even his hair which was too long for comfort had been tied back in a simple knot while the sword at his hip glinted faintly under the moonlight as the only thing betraying the act.
Then he paused in the center of the room while taking one last glance at the chamber. It looked absurdly normal as though nothing had happened and as though he weren't about to slip away. To anyone else, he could have passed for a traveler about to set out on a weary road but to him, this was more important that his status. This was escape and freedom he dreamed all his life.
"Perfect," he muttered while tugging the hood down and striking a little mock-heroic pose. "Let's see… bet they'll only notice that their pitiful prince was gone when dinner's late. Priorities, right? Anyway, here we go!
After hopping out of his chamber window, Rowan hit the grass with ease only to spot a familiar figure lurking in the shadows. The man straightened and hood pulled low but the stiff way he held himself gave him away immediately. Rowan let out a small grin while shaking his head as he brushed the dust from his tunic. "Your Grace, of course. Who else would be waiting for me in the middle of the night?"
He was supposed to be stuck in his room while pretending to be sick and that was the cover story. It would protect him when the palace started asking questions after realizing the omega prince had slipped away. On the surface, Magnus would look untouchable and seemed like just a poor man in bed. But in reality? He was the one pulling the strings to make Rowan's escape possible.
"Let's go, my prince. The carriage is ready."
Rowan matched Magnus's pace as they sprinted across the silent palace grounds. They slipped into a narrow trail winding through the old forest, a shortcut meant to be known only to his family. Yet Rowan wasn't the least bit surprised that Magnus knew of it because perhaps the original prince had already shared the secret, a detail Mari herself could no longer recall.
He tightened his grip on the sack slung over his shoulder while the sword was knocking lightly at his hip. Whatever the case, there was no turning back now.