May 2, 2017: Welcome! This story has been edited since I first posted it in September 2016, so if you've read this story before and you notice some changes, that's why :). I hope you enjoy the story!
Author's Note: This story is set in the Middle Ages, in the fictional nonmagical kingdoms of Almara and Elran.
The Runaway Princess
by somekindofwildgirl
Chapter 1
Hermione crept along the shadows. She needed to find cover or her mission would fail. A howl startled her - a scream on the tip of her tongue - but she realized it came from beyond the castle walls. There was no danger here. Yet. She was on edge, her muscles ready to leap into action at any given moment.
As she slipped behind the smokehouse, footsteps echoed throughout the courtyard. Hermione closed her eyes and released the breath she had been holding. That had been a close call. The voices were getting louder.
"You jumped like a girl."
The knight scoffed. "Did not. I was dozing off before that wolf... It's been a long night."
"Amen to that," his partner answered. Someone opened the castle door and her eyes flew open. Their torchlight fading as the two guards disappeared. When she was certain they would not return, Hermione resumed her journey.
The next part of her plan held a greater risk, but it was unavoidable. Both the castle's main and back entrance were guarded. Only those with the King's permission were granted access at night. But, the domestic staff used a gate in the courtyard that was neglected. Not many knew of its existence as servants were ignored, only seen when needed. This door was her only chance of escape and dawn was fast approaching. Soon, the attendants would begin their chores and the rest of the castle would wake up.
It was now or never.
Hermione darted across the lawn. The distance to the gate was longer than she remembered, but now was not the time to second-guess herself. The morning dew made the grass slippery and she almost lost her pack twice in her clumsiness. The door was only a stone throw away.
"Intruder! Ring the bells! Gather the guards!"
She cursed and bolted for the gate. Her heart hammered in her chest, the bells tolled. Please do not let this be the end. Adrenaline coursed through her, forcing her on. Hermione crashed through the door and kept running.
The path was treacherous, its disuse apparent upon first glance. Branches reached out to her as she tore past them, tearing her clothes and leaving their marks upon her skin. Rocks and roots littered the trail. Hermione fell, got up, tripped again. Only the threat of punishment kept her tired limbs moving.
She kept this pace until she was well away from the castle. When Hermione was certain no one was following her, she slowed to a walk cradling a stitch in her side. The guards would not give up their pursuit. She had to keep moving.
The closest town was half a day's walk to the east. On horseback, the sentry would beat her there. She pulled out her map and glanced at the sun's position before continuing on her journey. Hermione turned west.
They would not look for her in her betrothed's kingdom.