How to Lose a Game of Hide-and-Seek in Five Minutes

Morgan

A full week on the road, and an unyielding exhaustion had settled deep into my bones. I was tired of driving, tired of the endless stretch of unfamiliar land. In the weary silence, I found myself questioning our flight from the palace all over again. Why had we done this? Then the answer returned, sharp and clear. For Natalia. I had done it for her, to get her away from the King before one of his violent outbursts finally claimed her life. And for both of us, because we shared a desperate, aching longing to find a way back home.

Before we left, I had managed to acquire a map of this realm while running errands for the castle. It was a rudimentary thing. The cartography suggested a belief that the world was flat, which, for all I knew, might be true in this strange dimension. The map depicted a single, massive continent encircled by a scattering of islands, dominated by three great kingdoms and four lesser island states. My first glance had filled me with a foolish optimism; I’d assumed the border between this kingdom and the adjacent one, Ethon, ruled by King Stefan, was only a week’s journey away. I could not have been more wrong. So accustomed to the conveniences of my own world, I had grossly underestimated the vast distances involved. At my current pace, it would take at least another week, perhaps even longer, just to leave this country.

Had Natalia been with me, our provisions would have run out long before we reached our destination. But she was not. Alone, my own rations would last for some time. It was a grim and lonely comfort.

Gossip among the royal staff had informed me that our kingdom was on the verge of war with Ethon. This was precisely why I had chosen it as our sanctuary. The King would not dare send his forces across the border until he was fully prepared for conflict, as such an act would be seen as a declaration of war. There, I had reasoned, Natalia and I would be safe. We could have found work, perhaps as maids—though the thought of Natalia cleaning anything brought a faint, sad smile to my lips. She detested it. I could have been the maid, then, and she the chef. We could have managed, caring for ourselves while we searched for a path home. We would have found a way to make it work, one way or another.

Natalia

More than two weeks had passed since our failed escape, and the ache of Morgan’s absence was a constant, hollow presence in my chest. Jace’s company lessened the sharpest edges of the loneliness, and we had established a careful routine to ensure he was never seen without me by his side. Viktor had moved me again, this time to a room that, like the last one, had no window. He had also taken my heavy comforter and all sources of light, plunging me into a perpetual state of cold and shadow. I had fashioned a small, makeshift bed for Jace from my pillows, but he had yet to use it, preferring instead to burrow beside me for warmth against the evening chill. The humiliation of my captivity continued; each day, Viktor would once again chain me to his desk or throne while he worked. At least he did not chain Jace, though I suspected this was less an act of mercy and more a calculated cruelty—a silent hope that someone might snatch the boy from me while I was otherwise occupied.

Jace was deeply shaken when he finally made the connection that Viktor was the King. For days afterward, he was a small, rigid statue of fear whenever Viktor was near. I believe my constant presence, my unwavering fight for his well-being, slowly began to soothe his terror. When the King sent only enough food for one person to my room each morning, I gave it all to Jace. When Viktor refused to allow him a seat at the table, I held Jace on my lap for the duration of our lunches and dinners. When he refused to purchase clothes for the boy, I had the maids bring me fabric and a sewing kit and stitched them myself. The list of small rebellions went on and on. I even intentionally injured my own hand to force Viktor to summon Isaak, creating an opportunity for the physician to examine Jace as well. I did everything in my power to look after him.

And Jace was beginning to look healthier. He was clean, had a safe place to sleep, and received three meals a day. In the quiet darkness of our room, I would teach him the alphabet and numbers, read him bedtime stories I spun from memory, and play quiet games—anything I could conjure to distract him from his fear. From him, I learned that he had lived with his mother until her death a year prior, at which point he was cast out onto the streets. He had survived that way for a year, but had nearly forgotten his own name, as his mother had mostly called him “her son.” Isaak estimated his age to be around seven or eight, though it was difficult to be certain due to his profound malnourishment.

This morning, I was woken not by a maid, but by the King himself. I opened my eyes to find Viktor standing over the bed, where Jace was snuggled tightly in my arms.

“Why are you here?” I asked, glaring up at him. It had been an exceptionally cold night, and I had sacrificed most of the remaining sheets to double the layers around Jace. “You hardly ever come in here anymore.”

“Why haven’t you tired of the rat?” he asked, his tone one of genuine curiosity. That was another thing. His unwavering refusal to use Jace’s name infuriated me.

“Don’t call him that,” I snapped. “And I will never ‘tire’ of him. Perhaps I would if he were a toy. But he is not. He is a living, breathing human being who I love and for whom I am responsible.” And it was true. I did love him. Despite the short time we had known each other, I was beginning to think of Jace as my own.

Viktor looked as though such a concept had never occurred to him. What did he think? That Jace was some passing fancy? That I would simply grow bored and allow Viktor to murder him? Never. What kind of person did he think I was?

Then, a flash of inspiration struck. It was time Viktor learned to relax a little; Jace would enjoy it. A sly smile crept onto my face. “You’ve been working too hard. Let’s play a game.”

Viktor’s head snapped toward me, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as he no doubt wondered what I was plotting. I held up my hands in a gesture of innocence. “I promise,” I began, “that I will not leave the castle for the duration of this game.” I could see he still didn’t trust me, but he gave a slow, hesitant nod. “And we will only play it on this floor,” I added. At that, he seemed to relax a fraction, though his expression remained wary. “Let’s play a game of hide-and-seek.”

“No.”

“Oh, come on! You’re such a stiff, you need to loosen up! It will be fun! You just have to count to one hundred while Jace and I go hide somewhere on this floor. If you can find us, by yourself, you win.”

“No.”

The words tumbled out before I could stop them. “I’ll give you one favor,” I bartered. “A favor I will have to grant, no matter what it is, as long as it doesn’t involve Jace.”

At that, one of his eyebrows arched. He clearly had not expected it. Jace, now awake, was propped against me, listening with wide eyes.

A strange glimmer appeared in Viktor’s eye. “Very well,” he responded. “But remember your terms. When I call in that favor, you will obey my command, so long as the rat is not involved.”

“Deal.”

“One. Two. Three…”

As he counted, I saw a flicker of genuine excitement in Jace’s eyes, warring with his fear of Viktor. I sprang from the bed, scooped Jace into my arms, and dashed out of the room and into the corridor. Alright, we have about ninety seconds to hide. I slipped through the door directly across the hall. It was a man’s bedroom—unoccupied, I was relieved to see. Where my room at the summer palace had been white and gold, this was a study in deep, brooding shades of black and crimson. The space was dominated by heavy, masculine furniture: a towering bookshelf, a massive king-sized bed in the corner, and a large balcony.

“Where to hide, where to hide,” I whispered, my eyes darting around the room. I hurried to the bed and pulled away several large pillows, tucking Jace beneath them before carefully arranging a few more on top so his hiding spot wouldn't be too obvious. After shoving the extra pillows under the bed, I commanded Jace to be perfectly silent and raced for the closet.

The closet was enormous—even larger than my own, which was surprising, as mine was stuffed with frivolous dresses. Fortunately, one section contained robes and long coats that brushed the floor. Just as I had done countless times as a child playing with my cousins, I crept beneath the garments and wriggled my way back until I found a small recess between the hanging clothes and the wall. After ensuring I was completely concealed, I held my breath.

I smiled when I heard the bedroom door creak open.

Viktor

This childish game was utterly beneath him, but Viktor wanted that favor. The girl, for all her stubbornness, had finally realized the power she held over him—power granted to her by the prophecy. She wielded it without hesitation when it came to the boy. His dislike for having the street urchin in his house had only grown now that he understood the child was more than a passing amusement for Natalia, more than a doll for a young girl to play with. But she had presented him with the opportunity for a favor at the perfect moment.

In this world, only one body held more authority than a king: the Council of Ancients. They were like gods, intervening only when the great tapestry of fate strayed from their intended design. They were the most formidable trio of beings in existence, and every kingdom, regrettably, acknowledged their dominion, for they possessed a true, supernatural power—the ability to see every possible future.

And recently, they had intervened, a rare occurrence in the modern era. With the prophecy of his death looming, they believed he had been given sufficient time to secure his line. Now, they were pressing him more than ever. Specifically, they demanded he crown Natalia as his queen.

In Viktor’s eyes, Natalia was still a rebellious and troublesome creature, but she was no longer as insufferable as she had once been, and it helped that she seemed to possess no truly hidden agenda. Against his better judgment, he had even begun to like her. This did not mean, however, that he wished to marry her. He had no desire for a wife, regardless of whether she was supposedly his other half.

But he had to obey the Council. With a single word, they could unravel the destiny of his kingdom and his own.

This absurd game, in truth, was a victory for him. It was a small, foolish price to pay for a favor he could use to persuade Natalia to agree to the marriage without a fight.

Natalia

I heard the heavy tread of Viktor’s footsteps as he entered the bedroom. He paused, surveying the space, before pulling open the bathroom door. I was actually a little surprised he had decided to check this room first. There was no fun in it if he caught us right away; the thrill was in the chase.

Viktor emerged from the bathroom and made his way toward the closet. My limbs were already beginning to cramp after only a minute of hiding. Through the small gaps between the coats, I could see his polished boots as he paced slowly around the closet’s interior. Just as he passed my hiding spot, an utterly mortifying hiccup escaped me.

Viktor stopped. He stooped down, and I could see his unmasked face break into a grin. He had found me within the first five minutes. It wasn't fair; I had insisted on playing, after all. He helped me crawl out from my hiding place, and as my face burned with embarrassment, he let out a full, genuine laugh. Another hiccup betrayed me.

“You still have to find Jace,” I mumbled. He just nodded, the smile still lingering on his lips.

Presumably realizing I would never let Jace hide too far from me while his cruel command was in effect, Viktor began to search the room in earnest. He made a show of it, and I felt a small surge of pride when Jace let out a tiny, stifled giggle. I was also, for once, a little proud of Viktor. Instead of being his usual obnoxious, contemptuous self, he was actually playing along. Still, his insistence on calling Jace a rat rankled.

“Hmm,” Viktor said aloud, his tone one of serious contemplation. “I wonder where the rat could be.” Jace giggled again from beneath his pillow fortress, and I had to stifle my own laughter.

“He’s not on the balcony,” Viktor declared, theatrically opening and closing the balcony doors. He continued the charade, looking behind the drapes and under the desk before finally making his way to the bed. He stroked his chin. “Now that’s strange,” he mused. “I was not aware that pillows could giggle.”

He swept the pillows away with a dramatic flourish, revealing a beaming Jace. What do you know, I thought. I don't think Jace is so terrified of Viktor anymore. I walked over and gently lifted Jace from the bed. He shrieked with laughter as I began to tickle him. When I turned, I saw Viktor watching us with an enigmatic expression on his face. On a sudden impulse, I grabbed his arm, pulled him down onto the bed, and Jace and I joined forces to tickle him. He wasn’t particularly ticklish, but a sincere, unbridled smile bloomed on his face.

Perhaps, I thought, just maybe, he wasn’t such a monster after all.