Ovidia felt him go stiff, and she pulled back immediately, sensing something was off. She rubbed her arm, feeling a little embarrassed.
"Sorry… I guess the fear got to me. I thought the guard would catch us, but you handled it." She said.
Jarl shook his head quickly. "It's not that. I just… I've never been hugged before. That was my first. If anyone was shocked, it was me."
Ovidia blinked, taken off guard. A prince, raised in a palace full of rules and eyes, yet never once hugged? That wasn't just strange, but it was cruel. She looked at him, really looked, and the thought hit her hard. No wonder he clung to anger, no wonder he kept to himself.
She let out a soft breath. "Oh."
Her mind was already spinning. He shouldn't be trapped in this place like a ghost people refuse to see. If she could sneak him out, even for a moment, she would. He deserved at least a breath of freedom, something that didn't taste like fear.
And she made a quiet promise to herself that she'd help him get out even if it's once, for him to breathe a different air. She was sure he'll be happy to leave this hell hole.
"You must be cold. I have a spare room in the quarters. You can use it. Come, I'll show you." Prince Jarl said as he stepped out, and Ovidia followed quietly behind him.
The room wasn't far, just a few steps from his. When they arrived, he opened the door for her. Ovidia stepped in, letting her eyes move around the space. It was simple, clean, and more than she expected.
"It's okay." She said softly, grateful for the small kindness.
"I'll tell my cook to prepare food for two," Prince Jarl said. "Change into something dry so you don't get sick." With that, he stepped out, leaving her alone.
Ovidia went straight to the small bathroom and slipped out of her wet clothes, pulling on the dry ones he provided. When she returned, she sat on the bed for a moment, then slowly lay back, staring at the ceiling.
Her thoughts wouldn't stay still. Too much had happened, and confusion settled over her like a weight she couldn't shake off.
All of this still felt like a nightmare she couldn't wake up from. She slid off the bed and crawled underneath it, whispering a small prayer that when she came out, she'd be back in her own room, in her own world.
But when she crawled out, nothing had changed. She was still in the same room, and same reality. She let out a tired sigh and sat back on the bed, trying to steady herself.
A soft knock came at the door. She stood and opened it, finding a maid waiting.
"Prince Jarl is calling for you." The maid said.
Ovidia followed quietly to his room.
A platter of food sat between them... roasted venison, honey-glazed bread, spiced barley stew, smoked fish, and a small bowl of berry compote. They ate quietly for a while, the warmth of the meal easing the tension in the room.
Ovidia watched him, thinking again about the walls that kept him trapped. She knew he feared them, feared the king more, but the thought wouldn't leave her.
"Maybe we can sneak out of here." She said gently, testing the waters.
Prince Jarl set his spoon down, with his jaw tightening. "I already told you about my father…" His voice carried that same fear.
"But you can do it without him knowing." Ovidia said softly.
Jarl frowned. "How? There are guards everywhere in this quarter."
She gave a small, confident smile. "Leave that to me."
*
*
*
Ovidia had spent the whole evening watching every guard like she was studying for an exam she couldn't afford to fail. She noticed the pattern fast: the guards at the quarter changed shifts every hour, and there was always a tiny moment... maybe twenty seconds, where one group left before the next fully settled in.
She explained it to Jarl carefully, tracing the imagined path with her finger.
"We slip out when the first two turn the corner. They don't look back." She said.
Jarl hesitated, rubbing his palms together. "I'm still having second thoughts… If my father finds out, you don't know what he'll do to me."
"I don't need to know." She replied softly. "I just know you need one breath of freedom."
When the moment came, she slipped out first, checking the hall. And when it was clear, she signaled him, and he followed quickly.
They moved through the corridor, ducked behind a pillar, then slipped through a side gate.
And just like that... they were out.
The night air was cool and fresh, hitting Prince Jarl like a whole new world especially. They walked until the palace lights faded behind them, then wandered into a busy marketplace glowing with lanterns.
People were trading goods... baskets of herbs, carved wooden toys, fabrics dyed in deep colors. A group of musicians played near a corner, drums tapping lightly, children dancing around them.
Prince Jarl stopped with wide eyes wide. "I didn't know any of this existed. I thought the palace was the whole world."
Ovidia smiled at the wonder on his face. "There's more out here than you know. I am also impressed by this."
They walked from stall to stall, watching people laugh, bargain, sing, live. For the first time, Jarl didn't look like the hidden prince... he looked like someone seeing color for the first time.
But after a while, Ovidia tugged on his sleeve. "We need to go back… right now. The guards will be changing shifts soon."
Jarl looked back at the lively market, reluctant. "I didn't want this to end so fast."
"We'll come again," she whispered. "But tonight, we need to act like we never left."
"But we just left… I don't want to go back," Prince Jarl murmured.
"I'll sneak you out again," Ovidia assured him. "But for today, our time is up."
He looked back at the lively street, a quiet acceptance settling in. His freedom had been small, but it was enough to change something inside him. If returning kept them safe, he'd endure it. For once, the fear of his father didn't choke him. Stepping outside those walls after years made him feel… alive.
They started making their way back to the palace, Prince Jarl heart was heavy, because he was returning to that hell.
On their way, Prince Jarl froze, his ears catching a snippet of conversation.
"Prince Erik's birthday celebration was a blast… I'm just leaving now. I couldn't wait for the after-party." A lady said, her voice carrying across the street.
Jarl turned to look at her and the person she was speaking to. Both were dressed finely, moving with the kind of confidence and authority that marked them as people of importance.
Prince Jarl's chest tightened, anger bubbling under his skin. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. His brother, Prince Erik, had a grand birthday celebration... a big one, filled with people, laughter, and attention.
And yet, his own father had never celebrated Jarl's birthday, not once. Nothing about him had ever mattered.
But for Erik? His father would move mountains, spare no expense, do anything to make him feel special. The unfairness stung deeply.
Prince Jarl's mind raced, replaying every memory, every slight, every moment his father had ignored him. He kept asking himself what he had done wrong to deserve being hidden from the world, denied what he should have had, left to feel invisible in his own family.
The anger inside him surged, hot and unrelenting, making his hands clench and unclench. Thoughts of confronting his father flitted through his mind, reckless and tempting, ignoring the danger it could bring.
He knew it was foolish, but he couldn't stop himself from imagining standing up, demanding answers, demanding recognition from his father.
"Let's go." Ovidia said, grabbing his hand and gently tugging him forward. But she noticed him hesitate, and her brow furrowed in confusion.
"Go back to the quarter alone." He said, his grip tightening on hers. "There's something important I need to take care of." He added.
Ovidia froze, her eyes widening. "No…" she replied firmly.
She didn't like the sound of that. He wasn't used to being outside, and one wrong move could get him caught... or worse, in serious trouble with the king. Her worry surged, mingling with frustration at his stubbornness.
"Please… I'll be safe. Trust me." He assured, his voice tinged with a hint of insistence.
Ovidia hesitated, then considered that maybe he just wanted to explore more, to feel the world outside his quarters. She nodded slowly. "I trust that you'll stay safe." She said, stepping back. With a small sigh, she left him to his decision.
Prince Jarl turned toward the main entrance of the palace. The sound of music grew louder as he approached the celebration hall.
When he reached the doors, two guards stepped forward, blocking his path. "You can't enter." One said firmly.
Nobody outside the inner circle knew who he truly was. If they had known he was a prince, they would have opened the doors without hesitation.
But he didn't even bother to explain. Anger surged through him... untamed, and something deep inside felt ready to break free.
Without thinking, he shoved the guards aside with a strength that startled even him. They stumbled back, unable to resist, and he pushed forward, barreling into the celebration hall with full force.
The music stopped abruptly. All eyes turned toward him. In the center, his brother danced, laughing and surrounded by attention and admiration. That sight made Jarl's anger triple.
His breathing increases. The musicians froze mid-note, the instrumentalist paused. Guests murmured and shifted uneasily, unsure who this angry fine young man was or what he intended.