Court Of Shadows and Lies

12. The Thalorians Encounter

I entered my room and closed the door behind me, leaning against it for a moment as the silence enveloped me. I pulled the strands of my hair back, trying to maintain a calm, composed facade. But beneath the surface, frustration simmered. What could I do? Lenora had expectations of me, and I felt suffocated by them. I hadn’t promised her anything, hadn’t given her a reason to hope. It was maddening. Why should I bear the weight of her disappointments when she was the one who seemed content to float through life in blissful ignorance?

I should be her savior?

My breath came heavy and erratic, a storm of emotions swirling within me. My eyes flicked to the desk, and there it was again—a letter.

I walked over and opened it, recognizing Duke Anton's handwriting. The urgency in my movements quickened as I read the contents, my heart racing with anticipation.

Oh my Heavens! The Thalorians are in the main town market of Ferindia. This is my chance.

Without a second thought, I grabbed my cloak and wrapped it around my shoulders, the fabric brushing against my skin like a promise. I stormed out of my room, my mind racing. This could change everything. I didn’t care about the judgment or the expectations that weighed on me. I had an opportunity, and I was determined to seize it.

I caught Rylan approaching from the corner of my eye as I stormed through the palace grounds, but I didn't even bother to acknowledge him. I had my own path to carve, one that didn’t include his smothering gaze or the weight of his expectations. Mounting my horse, I felt the familiar stir of determination coursing through me.

Today, I will find the Thalorian family.

The streets buzzed with life beneath the relentless noon sun, warmth pressing against my skin as I navigated the crowd. My heart raced with purpose, the words of the letter echoing in my mind. Brown robes with hoods and a weird waved shaped pattern on back of it. Designed for unity and easy identification. I scanned the throngs of people, searching for any sign of them, urgency flooding my veins.

Each hooded figure that passed made my pulse quicken, but none wore the emblematic garb I sought. The air was thick with the scent of fresh bread and spiced pastries, but my hunger was drowned out by my drive. I pushed aside the distractions and honed in on my mission.

Then, amidst the sea of faces, I spotted a child, a hood hanging loosely over his small frame. My heart surged as I approached, my voice sharp and commanding. “Who are you?” I demanded, standing tall, intent on extracting any information I could.

The boy's eyes widened in terror, and he screamed, “Mother! Mother!”

A woman burst forth from behind a stall, panic etched across her features. She shielded him with her body, her voice a fierce blend of authority and desperation. “Leave my child alone!”

“Step back,” I shot back, unyielding. “I need to talk to you. I won’t release your child until I get the truth.”

Her eyes darted around, fear tightening her features. “Please, just go. He’s only a child! You’re causing a scene. People will notice!”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me who you are,” I stated flatly, unwilling to back down. “You’re hiding your real identity. I can feel it.”

Her jaw tightened, and for a heartbeat, I thought I’d cracked her façade. But she shook her head defiantly, her resolve as solid as stone. “I’m just a mother. That is my real identity!”

“Is that so?” I countered, my voice dropping to a low, menacing whisper. “Then you wouldn’t mind explaining why your son is wearing that cloak, would you?”