Chapter 4

The garden hung suspended in the crackling aftermath. Jade’s outstretched hand trembled, not with fear now, but with the raw, untamed energy coursing through her. The wall of fire roared five feet high, separating them from Garrick’s rebels. Heat distorted the air, turning the grim-faced men into wavering spectres. The scent of burning ivy and ozone choked the damp dawn.

Garrick stumbled back, his predatory confidence replaced by stark shock. He hadn’t expected *this*. "Witchcraft!" a rebel yelled, his voice cracking. "She *is* marked by the ash!"

Edward seized Jade’s arm, his grip iron. "Move! *Now!*" He didn’t wait for her reaction, yanking her towards the stables, away from the inferno and the momentarily stunned rebels. The heat beat against their backs.

Behind the fiery curtain, Garrick roared, not in fear, but in furious calculation. "Don’t let them flee! Around the flames! Archers, find a line!" He knew the fire wouldn’t hold forever, and the commotion was a beacon.

Inside the Palace - King Julien's Balcony

The explosion of light and heat had ripped Julien from his brooding rage. He stood on his balcony, crownless now, his face pale in the unnatural dawn glow reflecting off the garden mist. He saw the fire, saw the figures fleeing towards the stables, and saw the rebels scrambling.

General Rook materialized beside him, his falcon’s gaze sharp. "The princess," he stated flatly. "And the Galloway viper. They’ve shown their hand, Sire. Open defiance. Dark magic."

Julien’s knuckles whitened on the stone balustrade. "Magic," he hissed, the word a curse. "Galloway poison, flowering in my own house." His fear curdled into cold, murderous resolve. "Burn them, Rook. Burn the stables. Burn the horses. Burn *everything* in that garden. Let the flames cleanse this abomination. And send every Falcon we have. I want their ashes on my desk by noon." His voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "Especially the boy’s."

Catherine had seen the flash, felt the tremor in the stones. She reached the window just as the fire wall bloomed. Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp. Not fear for the palace, but terror for her daughter. *Jade.* The power she’d feared, unleashed. And Julien… she knew him. Knew what this provocation would unleash. Without hesitation, she turned, grabbing a heavy candelabra. She had no army, but she had rage, and she had a mother’s desperation. She flew towards the King’s chambers. She wouldn’t let him order the kill shot unchallenged.

They burst through the side door into the warm, hay-scented gloom of the stables. Horses stamped nervously, sensing the chaos outside. Edward moved with lethal efficiency, grabbing bridles and saddle pads. "The bays! Fastest ones! Saddle them!" He tossed Jade a bridle.

Her hands were shaking badly, the residual energy making her fingers feel numb and sparking. "Edward... I... I didn't mean to..."

"*Meant* doesn't matter," he snapped, buckling a girth with practised speed. "*Did* does. Now saddle that horse unless you want to be Julien's bonfire decoration!" He glanced towards the door. Shouts were growing closer – rebels converging and the heavier tread of palace guards approaching from another direction.

Jade fumbled with the buckles, her mind reeling. The ledger, tucked inside her cloak, felt like a burning brand. The assassin’s dead eyes. Her mother’s fear. Her father’s hatred. The fire she’d summoned. It was all crashing down. She forced her trembling hands to work.

A crossbow bolt *thunked* into the wooden post beside Edward’s head. "They're flanking!" he yelled, drawing his own dagger and a short sword he’d grabbed from a rack. "Hurry!"

Garrick rounded the dying wall of fire, now more smoke and embers. His rebels were engaging palace guards near the main stable entrance. Chaos reigned. He saw Jade struggling with the saddle through the open side door. Saw Edward defending the entrance, a whirlwind of steel against a guard who got too close.

"Princess!" Garrick bellowed over the din, advancing. "This fire proves nothing! Julien will roast you alive! Come with us! We offer sanctuary! Power!" He held up a hand, trying to project command, to appeal to the symbol he’d created. "Be the Ashmarked Queen we need!"

Jade looked up, her eyes wide in the stable gloom. Sanctuary? Or another cage? Power offered by a man whose eyes held only ambition? She saw the charred rose pinned to his jerkin, a symbol born of *her* desperate act twisted into *his* rebellion.

Edward dispatched the guard and spun, seeing Garrick closing in. "Jade! *Now!*"

Jade vaulted onto the bay mare, grabbing the reins. Edward swung onto his own horse, kicking open the side door wider. "Ride! North! Don’t look back!"

They spurred the horses out into the misty garden, aiming for a gap in the hedges leading towards the outer walls. Garrick roared in frustration. "After them! Bring me the princess! Kill the boy!"

A Falcon commander raised his arm. Below, he saw the two figures on horseback bursting from the stables, rebels, and guards giving chaotic chase. He saw King Julien's signal flare – a streak of red fire against the grey sky. The order was clear: *Burn Them*.

"Fire at will!" the commander barked. "Target the stables and the fleeing riders! Incendiaries!"

A volley of flaming arrows, their tips wrapped in pitch-soaked rags, arced down from the battlements like falling stars. They struck the stable roof, haystacks, and the garden path where Jade and Edward had just been. Flames erupted anew, hotter, angrier, fueled by royal command.

Jade felt the searing heat on her back, heard the terrified whinny of her horse as an arrow struck the ground nearby, spewing fire. She leaned low over the mare's neck, urging her faster. Edward rode beside her, a grim shadow swatting aside a stray arrow with his blade. They plunged through the gap in the hedge, leaving the burning garden, the roaring rebels, and the lethal rain of fire behind. The open fields beyond the palace grounds stretched before them, shrouded in mist, offering a fragile, treacherous escape route.

Behind them, Agmeygv burned, not just the Ashenwood now, but its own heart. The Ashmarked Princess fled, not as a symbol, but as a fugitive, carrying the fire in her hands and the secrets that could shatter a kingdom. The chase was on, and the storm Julien had feared was no longer brewing. It had arrived.

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