Chapter 3
As Queen Mara emerged from the witch doctor's dingy hut, the crisp evening air enveloped her like a refreshing balm. The rain had finally ceased, leaving behind a tranquil silence that seemed almost surreal. She took a deep breath, feeling the cool mist fill her lungs, and gazed out at the sodden landscape.
With a quiet efficiency, Queen Mara adjusted the bottles in her coat pocket, the soft clinking of glass against fabric a subtle reminder of the potions she had acquired. She navigated the complicated bush, her eyes adjusting to the fading light, until she finally emerged into the clearing where the carriage awaited.
The carriage man stood beside the horses, his face twisted in a scowl. Queen Mara's arrival seemed to only intensify his irritation, but he bit back his retort and instead nodded curtly as she mounted the carriage.
"Take me back to where you picked me," Queen Mara instructed, her voice firm and detached. The carriage man stirred the horses, and the carriage lurched forward, wheels splashing through the puddles on the muddy path.
As they rode, the silence between them grew thick and heavy, punctuated only by the sound of the horses' hooves squelching in the mud and the creaking of the carriage.
The carriage man's anger, though palpable, went unacknowledged, and Queen Mara sat in silence, lost in her own world of intrigue and ambition.
As the carriage man reined in the horses, Queen Mara stepped down onto the mud ground,her feet touching it with a soft thud.
She tossed a bag of coins to the carriage man, the leather pouch jingling softly as it changed hands.
"For the delay," Queen Mara said, her voice a low, husky whisper, before turning to walk away. The carriage man caught the bag with a mixture of surprise and gratitude, his eyes widening as he felt the weight of the coins within.
The carriage man's gaze lingered on Queen Mara's retreating figure, a smile spreading across his face as he weighed the bag of coins in his hand. The amount was more than generous, and he felt a sense of appreciation for the queen's kindness. With a wave of his hand, he bid Queen Mara farewell, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled.
His attention to the horses, stirring them into motion, the carriage rolled away, its wheels creaking softly on the stone driveway. Queen Mara watched it depart, her eyes narrowing slightly as she turned to make her way to the palace. Her thoughts were already turning to the tasks that lay ahead, her mind racing with plans and strategies.
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As Queen Mara slipped back into the palace, the darkness of the corridors enveloped her like a shroud, her footsteps light and silent as she navigated the familiar terrain. She had evaded detection with ease, her movements fluid and calculated, like a ghost gliding through the shadows. Once inside, she swiftly changed into a fresh gown, the soft rustle of silk a soothing sound as she smoothed out the fabric with practiced ease.
As she emerged from her chambers, her eyes scanned the corridor, and she spotted a servant hurrying down the hall, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. Queen Mara's gaze locked onto the servant, and she swiftly intercepted them, her presence commanding attention. The servant bowed immediately, their head dipping low in respect, their voice barely above a whisper. "Your Highness."
"Do you have any knowledge of the king's whereabouts?" Queen Mara asked, her voice low and even, her tone imperious.
The servant hesitated for a moment, their eyes darting nervously to the side before responding, "I believe he is in the garden, indulging in his customary night tea, Your Highness."
Queen Mara's nod was curt, her mind already racing ahead to her next move. "I see," she said, her voice dismissive, her tone dripping with authority. The servant bowed again and scurried away, leaving Queen Mara to make her way to the garden.
The palace was a labyrinth of twisting corridors and grand halls, its every passage and doorway etched in Queen Mara's memory. She walked swiftly, her feet carrying her through the familiar terrain with ease, her long strides eating up the distance. Finally, she came to a small opening that led to the garden, and she slipped through it, her eyes adjusting to the softer light that spilled from the lanterns.
The king sat alone on a bench, a delicate china cup cradled in his hands as he sipped his tea, his eyes lost in thought. The warm glow of the lamp cast a golden light over his features, illuminating the sharp planes of his face. Queen Mara's eyes locked onto him, and she bowed low, her voice respectful, her words dripping with deference. "Your Majesty."
The king's head jerked up, his eyes narrowing as he took in Queen Mara's presence, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "Where have you been?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity, his tone low and husky.
Queen Mara's expression was serene, her voice innocent, her words carefully chosen. "What do you mean, Your Majesty?" she asked, her eyes meeting the king's, her gaze steady and unflinching.
The king's gaze lingered on her face, his eyes searching for something, his expression intent. "I was searching for you throughout the palace," he said, his voice low, his words slow and deliberate. "I couldn't find you anywhere. Where were you?"