The Escape [Part - 2]
She glared at him, but complied. The guards were almost at their nearest point now—one of them yawning, the other scraping the end of his halberd along the ground. Their footsteps crunched in unison, and the flash of torchlight danced upon the hedges.
Leon did not stir. Did not breathe audibly.
Nova, however, was hyper-conscious of every inch of his closeness. Of the way his arm touched her side. Of the rock-solid beat of adrenaline flowing through her chest.
And then—he leaned in a fraction closer. His voice, velvet-soft, caressed her ear.
"Is your heart racing?"
He cocked his head, lips grazing just short of her jaw. "Liar."
She barely restrained the shiver that chased down her spine. The guards passed. Slowly. Talking in low, bored voices. When they were finally out of sight, Nova stepped away and gave Leon a sharp shove in the chest.
"You’re doing this on purpose."
Leon looked at her, eyes wide with feigned innocence. "Doing what?"
She glared. He grinned.
They moved on—gliding through arches draped in ivy, crouching behind branches that dipped low. Shadows became their friends. The wall of stone and heavy vines, their disguise.
Another curve led them close to the garden wall that surrounded the estate.
When the next patrol moved too close, they took cover behind a rose-covered trellis, the smell sweet and strangely distracting. In the cramped space, her shoulder caught his chest, and she was trapped between the flowered lattice and the unyielding line of his body.
His breathing was slow. Measured.
Leon leaned in, close enough for his breath to brush the hairs at her temple. "Enjoying the thrill?"
"Tell me to stab you later," she breathed.
"I promise you’ll hit only the squishy places."
Nova made a show of rolling her eyes, but her lips curled. A grin nearly undid her, and for the love of all things good, she couldn’t keep it suppressed.
This wasn’t her. She didn’t slip out of mansions. She didn’t let people haul her around. She didn’t blush at half-whispered banter and arrogant grins in the dark.
And yet. here she was.
And she was damn well enjoying every second of it.
They crept through the final section of the garden, weaving between benches and hedge walls. The evening was alive around them—chilly wind, whispering leaves, faraway hoot of an owl.
Nova almost stumbled over a twisted root, her foot snagging in the earth. Before she could fall, Leon’s hand flashed out, wrapping around her waist and yanking her close.
Her back hit his chest. Her hands instinctively braced against him, fingers curling into his shirt.
"Careful," he murmured near her ear.
She didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His hand lingered on her hip a second longer than necessary. Maybe two.
Then she stepped back.
"I’m fine," she said stiffly, brushing off her clothes.
He didn’t reply. Just watched her with that same damn look.
The kind that said he’d caught her off guard—and he knew it.
Their eyes met in the darkness.
Neither of them said anything.
Her pulse beat under her skin. His fingers quivered at his side—just a little. The air between them hummed with unspoken tension, with something risky.
And then, like the exhalation of breath, the moment was over.
The only noise was the soft crunch of grass under their feet as they made their way down the last section of garden. Fewer torches were present here, the path less guarded, concealed behind a line of scraggly willow trees. The distant corner of the grounds loomed before them—silent, motionless, and shrouded in darkness.
There, the outer wall loomed. Unimposing in height, covered in ivy, it was the sort of barrier designed to discourage—not impede. It seemed higher in the moonlight than it had in Leon’s recollection, but still a climb.
This was the wall he had climbed before to enter secretly. And now, this was the wall they would climb to escape.
Leon braked to a halt at its base, looking back over his shoulder with that infuriating, boyish smile.
"Well," he said, cocking his head in that direction, "this is where I came in. Seemed fitting to sneak out the same place."
Nova wrapped her arms around herself and surveyed the wall. Then she met his gaze.
"Thanks," he said, bowing slightly, completely satisfied with himself.
She rolled her eyes but stepped closer. Her fingers brushed the cool stone. Ivy shifted under her touch, and a breeze stirred a strand of her hair across her cheek. Something fluttered in her chest—not nerves. Not fear.
Excitement. Anticipation. A sliver of something she refused to name.
Leon turned toward her, eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "We’re almost out. One more jump."
Nova glanced up at the wall, then at him.
He smiled bigger. Innocent. Too innocent.
"No," she said matter-of-factly.
"I didn’t say anything," he said, blinking.
"You were going to carry me again."
"I was thinking about it."
He let out a theatrical sigh. "Fine, fine. You can keep your dignity intact. This time."
She grinned, moving closer to the wall. "Good. Because next time you do that without checking, you’re getting kneed."
He flinched. "Noted. Very vividly."
Nova shook her head and crouched, testing the ground. "So. You climbing first?"
He gives half smile and spoke. "Ladies first?"
She gave him a sardonic look and asked playfully. "That’s a not trap."
Nova didn’t wait. With a confident nudge, she set her boot on the wall and vaulted up, fingers finding the ivy with practiced ease. Her movements were swift, efficient—trained.
Leon followed, too effortlessly, ascending as if gravity didn’t cling to him. He descended alongside her with no sound at all, his boots making almost no disturbance in the other side of the grass.
And like that... they were out.
Stooping down onto the plush ground outside the walls of the estate, Nova’s breath hung. She turned slowly, drinking in the view of the mansion behind them—its windows aglow surrounded by mirrored balconies, its white walls rising in unspoken, ordered perfection.
It seemed... far away now. Like a painting in a picture she was finally free to leave.
And then she turned—and caught Leon’s gaze.
Not the mansion. Her.
She’d never done something before. Never snuck out one evening in the dead of night, never broken rules just to get her way. She was duty. She was discipline. She was war-forged steel encased in tradition.
And yet... here she stood.
And when their eyes met once more, she didn’t blink.
Instead, she offered him a big, unguarded grin.
Leon’s smile came in return—but this time, it wasn’t mischievous or cocky. It was something quieter. Something real.
"You’re free for the night," he said softly. "Not a duchess. Not a warrior. No guards. No orders. No expectations."
Nova inhaled slowly, her chest rising with the cool night air. Strange how something so simple—being out here, with him—felt more freeing than any battlefield charge or title she’d ever held.
She arched a brow. "So what’s next?"
Leon smiled once more, fingers delving into his pockets. "Now we disappear into the darkness like bad angels."
And then, softer now, with a warm, teasing tone. "Are you up for it, my love... for a wild night out?"
She rolled her eyes, but her gaze still sparkled with something. "Just don’t get caught. You’re not the son of some crime organization. You’re just a duke in a fancy hat."
"Oh, Nova," he swooned theatrically as they walked to the back of the estate, "you hurt me. You really think I’d get caught—with you by my side?"
Her heart beat faster. Not from fear. Not even from exhilaration at their escape.
Something deeper. Something she hadn’t known in what seemed like an eternity.
A piece of her, one that had long been submerged by titles and orders, desired this. Desired him. And even though time had ever been unkind—pulling her down roads she never had a hand in choosing—some hidden, secret corner of her asked what could have been. If only she’d been someone different. A girl with easier dreams. A life less shaped by war.
She glanced at him. Her voice was low. Even.
Then, softly—smiling, but genuine— "Before someone actually sees us."
And with that, they left the walls and disappeared among the trees, the canopy above dropping bars of moonlight on the path. Shadows stretched long on the ground beneath them as they walked off together, two shapes leaving duty, titles, and the stifling quietness of anticipation behind.
Only freedom awaited.
Freedom—and the start of something bigger.
But behind them, unseen, a shadow changed.
Held up in the shadows, a quiet shape glided—light and still—alone. A solitary observer. Their breathing shallow, their gaze on the two disappearing forms before them.
The wind tickled slightly.
But Leon and Nova were already out of sight, their laughter lost in the quiet of trees and the promise of darkness.