Emmet was smarter than to wait around in that dank cell. As much as he wanted to stay in his home and pray that everything would turn out in his favor, that he would be released and he could go back to his life, he knew that was impossible. Two men were dead by his hands, one of them being a duke. An act like that demands justice, and Emmet knew it was only his own personal connections with Lord Forcetti that kept him away from the gallows. Had he not been friends with his son, his little accident could have brought about his end.
The woman that visited Emmet had told him her name was Sophia, and that she would be in charge of him for the foreseeable future. Emmet wasn’t very keen on trusting himself with someone he had met so recently, but he hadn’t many options.
The two left the next day, early in the morning. There was no farewell from any of Emmet’s family, or Aaron, or even lord Forcetti. Though, the night before, he was given the mercy of a real meal before departing. Smoked sausage, seasoned cabbage, and fresh bread. He liked to think that it was some small parting gift. Emmet awoke to the squeaking of his cell door opening, a guard escorting Sophia down into the dungeon to retrieve him. He was still exhausted, having been deprived of proper rest for so long, but he was eager to leave. Unable to stop himself from smiling as he stepped past the door to the cell had been locked in for ages. This was definitely one part of home he wasn’t going to miss.
“Ready to stretch your legs?” The guard taunted, punctuating his jab with a chuckle as he shut the cell door behind him, and followed the two closely.
The sun had yet to rise as the trio walked out of the dungeon, the staircase leading into the armory of the castle. Weapon racks bearing swords and pole arms hung on the wall, a certain axe bringing memories rushing back to Emmet’s mind.
“Here. Wear this.” Sophia said, handing Emmet a bundle of cloth. A traveling cloak like hers, but it was brown and earthy rather than red. Emmet looked at it in his hands, surprised that this was all they had given him to change. He was filthy, and could use a fresh set of clothes, not just this.
“Can’t I change my clothes? Clean myself?” Emmet asked the guard.
“No can do. Lord Forcetti wants you two gone before he wakes up. Said he wouldn’t be happy if two weavers were in his castle any longer than they needed to be.”
Emmet’s jaw hit the floor, that didn’t sound like the Lord Forcetti he knew at all. He stammered a small protest, but felt Sophia’s hand on his shoulder, giving him a glare that quickly silenced him.
The armory lead out into the courtyard of the castle. The stars shone brightly in the sky, the full moon hanging over head as crickets chirped, and the slightest hint of light poked over the horizon. Laying on the steps outside were two traveling packs, and an empty road ahead of them.
The guard nodded to Sophia, leaving and shutting the heavy door behind him. Emmet heard the wooden bar slide into place on the other side, locking him out for good.
“Well, couldn’t have asked for a better morning.” Sophia said, smiling as she looked up at the stars. Emmet had to admit, it was a lovely sky, but he was in hardly such a mood for appreciating nature.
“Yes.” Emmet said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ll certainly remember this whenever I think back to what I was leaving behind.”
Sophia simply raised her brow at him, and leaned down to pick up the packs.
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“I hope you’ll leave that bitter attitude behind as well.” She said, shoving the pack into his arms. Emmet hadn’t fully recovered from his stint in the Elksbrooke dungeon, and stumbled back as he struggled to adjust to the extra weight. “And before you say anything, I had to leave my home behind too.” She said coldly. Emmet held his tongue. If he was going to travel with this woman for Gods know how long, it would be better to be on good terms.
The two of them began their journey out of Elksbrooke, leaving the castle behind them as they stepped into the streets of the city. In the city proper, very few people were awake this early. At the very most, a few candles flickered in the window, but nobody had left their home.
“Put your hood up.” Sophia whispered, drawing her own over her head. Emmet quickly followed her instructions, realizing it would be better to stay unrecognized. As they walked through the side street, Emmet had a thought. His home, it wasn’t too far from here. Just a minute or two and he could be at his doorstep. He looked ahead of him, Sophia seemed to be focused on what was ahead of her, and not so much on him. If he just slowed his pace for a moment, and looked for the right moment, find a corner to duck behind, he could slip away. Tell his goodbyes to his mother and father, to Percy and Carol, and to share just a few moments. To let them know he was alive and thinking of them.
And that is precisely what he did. Waited until Sophia had drifted just far enough away ahead of him, and slunk off into an alley.
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Emmet’s footsteps were the lightest they had ever been, and even he was surprised at how well he was creeping through the streets of Elksbrooke. He felt like he hovered just over the air as he moved without sound, as he crossed a familiar street. Yes, the bakery was just around the corner, so that means–
He felt his ankle catch on something, and tumbled to the ground, biting his tongue to keep himself from making any more sounds. He looked down at his feet to see what tripped him, but saw nothing. Confused, he saw something coming at him in the corner of his eye. Something red.
Oh, no… he thought to himself.
Sophia stormed over to him, a twitch in her eye as Emmet stood to his feet. She pointed back to the alley that Emmet had come from, saying nothing.
“But I can’t just–“
“Emmet.” She interrupted. “I am responsible for you, and your safety. If anything happens to you, if we are seen leaving this city, then I have to answer for it! Now, go!” She hissed.
Emmet looked around, realizing how unsafe he felt in his own home town. He had been skulking about like he had just robbed an old widow, afraid of anyone who could be looking form a dim window. To satisfy his own anxiety, he followed her into the alley. From there, he stood his ground.
“Sophia, my family thinks I died in a fire. They think there isn’t even a body left to bury! If I let them think that, I could never forgive myself!” He said. In a harsh whisper.
Without missing a beat, Sophia retorted. “Could you forgive yourself if we stayed long enough for someone to catch a glimpse at too strange figures leaving the city? Or if someone found it odd that your little sister suddenly stopped mourning her brother? If word got back to the Bennet children that they should have any reason to think their fathers murderer was alive? What do you think would happen to your family then?” She hissed at him. Emmet balled his fists, and grit his teeth as he let out a huff of air through his nostrils.
“Oh, murderer? You don’t like that word, do you?” She said, condescending. “Well unless you want to have any further cause for the title, I suggest we get moving. Before I need to drag you back myself.”
A part of Emmet wanted to shout in retaliation, to scream at Sophia and let her know what he was thinking. He had known this woman little more than half a day, and she was already making him regret her decision to leave with her. But as he took a deep breath and thought clearly, he felt that she was right. He hated agreeing with her, but he did fear for the worst that could come. He knew the people of this town well. Joel, the baker he bought bred from just twenty feet from where he stood. Marie, the kind old woman he would do chores for when her husband passed. Henry and Christian, Kent and Tiffany. So many people he had grown up with and shared his life with. He trusted them all with his life, but was it fair to play with any of theirs? What might a dead duke’s children do to get their justice? Emmet didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. Emmet whipped around out the sound of a door opening and shutting just out of sight, and felt Sophia grab him by the wrist and drag him down the street.
This time, he didn’t offer any resistance.