The dungeon was silent except for the sound of dripping water and the faint scrape of iron on stone.
Tobias crouched beside the wall, his fingers tracing the cracks like a map only he could read.
Edward watched him carefully. "You said you could get us out."
"I can," Tobias replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "There's an old escape route built into these walls—used by the royal masons decades ago. Your ancestors feared assassination, so they built tunnels beneath their own prisons."
Edward's lips thinned. "You seem well-informed for a prisoner."
Tobias grinned. "Let's just say I've had time to listen. And I don't plan to rot here."
He pried a loose stone free, revealing a faint glint of rusted iron bars — and behind them, darkness.
"Help me with this," he said.
Edward hesitated, the chains biting into his wrists as he shifted. "If we escape, what then? The capital is surrounded by loyalists."
"Then we don't escape alone," Tobias said, his tone sharp. "We start with survival. Everything else comes after."
Meanwhile — North Coast, Rebel Camp
Dawn had barely touched the sea when Evelyn stood at the helm of a small, stolen ship.
The wind whipped through her hair as waves slapped against the hull. Behind her, Rowan and a handful of rebels prepared their weapons.
"We'll sail close to the cliffs," Rowan said, glancing at the map. "If they're moving prisoners by ship, this is where they'll pass."
Evelyn nodded, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "We intercept them quietly. No full engagement unless we have to."
Rowan studied her. "You're risking everything on the hope that he's alive."
"I'm not hoping," she said. "I'm knowing."
Hours later, the fog thickened. From its depths came the faint creak of oars and the glimmer of lanterns.
A royal convoy — five ships, armored and silent.
Evelyn's pulse quickened. "There," she whispered. "Lower the sails. Let the current carry us in."
They drifted closer until the enemy's banners became visible through the mist — the mark of House Langford.
Her breath caught.
The last time she'd seen that crest, it was on Edward's ring.
The Dungeon
Tobias wrenched one last bar loose and grinned. "Freedom."
Edward stepped through the gap into a narrow tunnel that smelled of earth and damp air. He turned back. "You first."
Tobias laughed softly. "Still playing prince, even down here."
But before he could take a step, torches flared at the far end of the corridor.
Guards.
Edward's heart pounded. Tobias muttered, "We've been found."
Without hesitation, Edward grabbed the broken chain from his wrist and swung it like a whip. The first guard fell with a cry; the second stumbled. Tobias lunged, disarming a third.
When the chaos settled, both men were bleeding but alive.
Edward exhaled, chest heaving. "You still think we'll make it?"
Tobias smiled grimly. "We already have. The rest is just distance."