"The servants' entrance," Lord Halvorn said, his voice still weak but his mind sharp despite his injuries. He had insisted on helping with their planning, refusing to rest until they had a viable strategy. "It's on the east wall, near the kitchen gardens. Less guarded than the main gates, and the shift change happens at midnight."
Gregory studied the rough map Eldon had sketched on a piece of parchment, committing the layout to memory. The North Tower was positioned at the far corner of the palace complex, making it both isolated and difficult to reach without being detected.
"What about the tower itself?" Abigail asked, her finger tracing the path from the servants' entrance to their destination. "How many guards?"
"At least four posted at the base," Eldon replied. "Two more on the upper level where they're keeping the prince. But there will be patrols throughout the palace grounds—the queen has tripled the guard presence since the 'impostor' was captured."
Gregory exchanged a glance with Abigail. Six guards at minimum, plus patrols. The odds were not in their favor, especially given his still-healing shoulder and their lack of knowledge about the tower's interior.
"There's something else," Eldon said hesitantly. "The queen has placed a magical ward on the prince's cell. I overheard the guards talking about it when they were... questioning me. They said no one can enter or leave without her permission."
Abigail's jaw tightened. "Then we'll need to get that permission. Or find another way through the ward."
"I might be able to help with that," came a new voice from the cellar stairs.
All three of them spun toward the sound, weapons raised. A figure descended slowly, hands held carefully at shoulder height in a gesture of peace. As they reached the light, Gregory recognized the newcomer with a shock.
It was Mina, Lord Halvorn's daughter—the young woman who had served them tea when Gregory first arrived at the townhouse. But she looked different now, dressed in dark traveling clothes rather than the fine dress she had worn before, and there was a hardness to her expression that hadn't been there previously.
"Mina!" Eldon gasped, trying to rise despite his injuries. "You shouldn't be here—it's too dangerous!"
"I'm already in danger, Father," Mina replied calmly, though her eyes shone with emotion at seeing her father's battered state. "We all are. The queen's men searched our country estate yesterday. They're looking for anyone connected to the prince's return."
She turned to Gregory and Abigail, her expression resolute. "I came to offer my help. I have... abilities that might prove useful."
Abigail studied her with narrowed eyes. "What kind of abilities?"
Mina hesitated, then raised one hand. The air above her palm shimmered, and a small flame sparked to life, dancing in the darkness without burning her skin. "I'm a mage," she said quietly. "Not powerful, but trained enough to recognize magical signatures. I might be able to sense the ward's structure, possibly find a weakness."
Gregory felt his eyebrows rise. Magic was forbidden in Comer, punishable by death. For Lord Halvorn's daughter to reveal such a secret meant she understood exactly how desperate their situation had become.
"You're willing to risk exposure?" Abigail asked. "If we're caught, the queen will have you executed alongside us."
"If we don't act, she'll have us all executed anyway," Mina replied. "My father for harboring the 'impostor,' me for being his daughter, and anyone else who showed the prince kindness. This is our only chance."
Eldon looked torn between pride and terror for his daughter, but he slowly nodded. "She's right. And if there's a magical ward, we'll need magical assistance to break it."
Gregory studied Mina with new appreciation. "Can you truly do this? Sense the ward without alerting whoever set it?"
"I think so," Mina said. "Ward magic leaves traces, like ripples in water. If I'm careful, I can read those ripples without disturbing them. But I'll need to get close to the tower."
Abigail's expression remained skeptical, but she nodded slowly. "Then you'll come with us. But you follow my orders without question. One mistake and we're all dead."
"Understood," Mina agreed.
They spent the next several hours refining their plan. Mina would accompany them to the palace, using her magical senses to detect wards and other mystical defenses. Abigail would lead them through the grounds, relying on her Ranger training to avoid patrols. Gregory would handle any guards they couldn't avoid, despite his injury.
As midnight approached, they prepared to leave. Lord Halvorn pressed a small pouch into his daughter's hand.
"Take this," he said quietly. "The family seal and letters of credit. If things go wrong, if you need to flee the kingdom..." He couldn't finish the sentence.
Mina embraced her father carefully, mindful of his injuries. "We'll succeed, Father. We have to."
The three of them slipped out of the townhouse through a back entrance, moving through the shadowed streets of Bridane like ghosts. The city was quiet under curfew, with only occasional patrols of guards to avoid. Abigail led them on a winding path that stayed clear of main thoroughfares, cutting through narrow alleys and private gardens.
As they approached the palace complex, Gregory's heart hammered against his ribs. The white stone walls loomed above them, illuminated by torchlight every fifty feet along the ramparts. Guards were clearly visible, their silhouettes stark against the night sky.
"The servants' entrance is just ahead," Abigail whispered, pointing to a small door set into the eastern wall. "There should be a shift change in approximately ten minutes. That's our window."
Mina closed her eyes, her breathing slowing. "I can feel magic here," she murmured. "Not a ward on the door itself, but... something else. Something watching."
"Watching?" Gregory asked, alarm rising.
"Like the seeker orbs," Mina explained, her eyes still closed. "But more subtle. Detection spells woven into the stones themselves. They'll alert someone if magical beings attempt to enter."
"Magical beings," Abigail repeated. "Would that include Prince Bryce? Is that how they're preventing him from using his powers to escape?"
Mina nodded slowly. "It's possible. The detection spell might trigger a containment ward if anyone inside attempts to use magic. Clever, if brutal."
"Can you bypass it?" Gregory asked.
Mina's eyes opened, and she gave him a grim smile. "I can try. But it will take time, and I'll need absolute silence and stillness while I work."
They waited in the shadows as the minutes ticked past. Finally, they heard the sound of booted feet approaching from inside the wall. The servants' door opened, and two guards emerged, yawning and stretching after their shift. Two fresh guards moved to replace them, engaging in brief conversation before the tired pair trudged away.
"Now," Abigail breathed.
Mina stepped forward, placing both hands flat against the door. She closed her eyes again, and Gregory could see her lips moving in silent words. The air around her hands began to shimmer, just as it had when she'd produced the flame in the cellar.
Long seconds stretched into a full minute. The guards on the ramparts above continued their patrol, unaware of the intruders below. Gregory's hand rested on his knife, ready to act if they were discovered.
Finally, Mina stepped back, swaying slightly. Abigail caught her arm to steady her.
"It's done," Mina whispered. "I've created a... a blind spot, essentially. A small area where the detection spell won't register our presence. But it won't last long—maybe twenty minutes. And it only covers the entrance. Once we're inside, we'll be exposed again."
"Then we move fast," Abigail said. She tested the door handle and found it unlocked—protocol during shift changes, apparently. "Stay close and stay quiet."
They slipped through the servants' entrance into the palace of Bridane, and Gregory's breath caught in his throat. They were inside the very heart of the queen's power, and there was no turning back now.
The corridor beyond was dimly lit by widely spaced lanterns, clearly meant for servants rather than nobles. Abigail moved forward with the confidence of someone who had walked these halls before, and Gregory remembered she had grown up here, in the palace mews with her father.
They encountered no one as they navigated the service passages, though voices and the clatter of kitchen work echoed from nearby chambers. The palace never truly slept—there were always servants preparing for the next day, cleaning the grand halls, tending to fires and lamps.
After what felt like an eternity of tense navigation, Abigail held up a hand, signaling them to stop. They had reached a junction where the servants' corridor opened onto a broader passage—one that led toward the palace proper and, beyond it, the North Tower.
"From here, we're exposed," she whispered. "No more back passages. We'll need to move quickly and pray we don't encounter any patrols."
Mina touched Gregory's arm, her face pale in the dim light. "I can feel the ward now. It's strong—stronger than anything I've encountered in training. The queen is powerful, perhaps more powerful than anyone in the kingdom realizes."
"Can you break it?" Gregory asked.
"I don't know," Mina admitted. "But I'll try."
Abigail peered around the corner, checking for guards. "Clear for now. Let's move."
They stepped out into the palace proper, and despite the urgency of their mission, Gregory couldn't help but be struck by the grandeur surrounding them. Marble floors gleamed in the lamplight, and tapestries depicting the history of Comer adorned the walls. This was wealth and power made manifest in stone and art.
But there was no time to marvel. They hurried down the corridor, their footsteps muffled by thick carpets, heading toward the North Tower where Prince Bryce awaited his fate—and where the queen's trap was surely set and ready to spring.
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