Snow sprinkled onto Nicholas’ head as he stepped out the rickety door at the back of the Dancing Goat, a tavern situated in the lower-class district of Haven. Then he looked up into the grey sky where flakes melted onto his tired face. He could feel the bags under his young eyes, his skin stretched tight. His chest and shoulders weighed on him.
This was it. He was making a drastic change to his life for the better, though a part of him wished it could go differently.
But I have made mistakes, and I can’t turn back. My rogue life is over.
He took the steps down for the last time, taking in the cracks in the wood before they disappeared under all the white, and directed himself right along the narrow street. A breeze caught him here, and he hugged himself for warmth. All he wore was a grey cotton shirt under a dark blue sleeveless tunic, hood down along his back.
Only that was when he heard the presence of another person. It came as frantic boot thumps. The sound was louder and more persistent than his own natural quiet steps, and it nearly erased the crunching of the snow beneath them.
He tensed.
“Nicholas!”
The rogue turned, recognizing his friend, Cedric, and smiled weakly. Smiles were getting a bit easier as the sober, clean days grew into weeks.
And Cedric slid to a halt, bending over to grip his knees as he panted. “Nicholas…” he wheezed.
“Maybe you should sit,” Nicholas chuckled, slipping an arm around his friend to feel just the coat he wore around his thick frame. “It doesn’t look good to have a guard trainee in his third year huffing and puffing. Have you started that diet my father…”
The young guard shook his head and straightened, a gasp escaping as his pinkened face contorted. “No time for jokes. A warrant has just been issued for the King of the Rogues.”
Nicholas couldn’t help but chuckle more, the sound echoing on the cold air just as it gusted into the street and shoved him an inch forward. He hugged himself tighter with that, releasing his friend as his teeth chattered. “Cedric, there is always a warrant out for the King of the Rogues. Now come, sit.” And he gave his friend a nudge toward some crates.
Cedric shook his head again.
Nicholas sighed, that tiredness hitting him harder now and wiping his attempt at a smile away.
“This time is different,” Cedric breathed. “This time your name is on it.”
His heart stuttered as his face paled. At least he was sure it paled. It was hard to tell at the moment. “That’s impossible. I never…”
“It was Rusty. He turned you in. But Nicholas, the gate…”
Now Nicholas shook his head, though it didn’t quite feel a part of him anymore. “I just renounced my title and gave it to Rusty. You must be…”
“No.” Those dark green eyes of Cedric’s grew intent. “I was there with King William and Prince Jonathan. It was Rusty. But Nicholas, listen…”
A thudding entered his ears, Cedric’s next words disappearing behind them. Rusty? No. He… The image of his right-hand man appeared in his mind. There had been no sign of deceit as he accepted the title before the other rogues. It hadn’t been the normal fight to the death way, but it had been accepted just as it had been the last time.
“The gate hasn’t been locked yet,” came back Cedric’s voice.
Nicholas mentally shook his head and redirected to his friend.
“I would say you have a few minutes to get out of Haven. Jonathan is doing his best to stall.”
“But…” The world moved. “But my father.” And he motioned in the direction of the castle. He couldn’t see it from where he was located, but he knew its path by heart. “I have to…”
Cedric’s hand snatched him, drawing him to a halt rather abruptly. “You have no time. They will catch you before you make it onto the castle grounds. You have to go. Now!”
The process of breathing had been forgotten. How to move, forgotten. Nicholas just stood there, gaze on nothing in particular as his mind sorted a way he could sneak into the castle one last time and see his father.
“Nicholas!”
He was shoved forward, Cedric’s hands harsh against him. He stumbled only once.
Go!”
And somehow he found himself running, but not in the direction he desired.