Smoke rolled through the corridors like a living thing.
Shouts echoed.
Boots pounded against stone.
Ernest carried Anastasia through the burning hall and into the outer courtyard. The night air struck them both, cold and sharp against smoke-stung lungs. Behind them, flames continued to burn.
He set her gently on her feet.
Ernest sat Anastasia down on the stone pavement. "Let me see your foot," he said as he lowered himself to examine it. Fortunately, she had not twisted her ankle.
At that moment, two men walked over to Ernest.
"Your Highness, King Edward escaped through the south gate. He had a few soldiers waiting there," one of the men reported.
Ernest frowned. He had never expected that Edward would plan a retreat.
"You will protect her. I will lead a few men to chase him," Ernest decided. Edward was not an easy target, and he could not simply trust his men to defeat him without support.
Hearing those words, Anastasia immediately held onto him.
