16: A Spy on the Prowl

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Oranges, cinnamon, carnation and cloves. The faint fragrances of lilies and lavender against the strong aroma of freshly baked bread, sweets and grilled meat. Scent mingling with bright colours swaying in the wind that danced through the narrow streets and hidden paths, eager to witness the hustle and bustle of life that flooded the streets, moving to and fro all about.

Soles clacked, bells rang, cookware chinked and chimed. Countless voices merged into a sea of merry chatter, singing of anticipation in the bright light of the midday sun.

The town welcomed him with a more passionate embrace than ever, sweeter than that of any woman's he had enjoyed in a long time. The air was more entrancing than any licquor tickling his tongue.

The talk was of celebration, of high hopes and bright futures.

Of marriage.

Of a young king and a divinely beautiful bride.

So the rumours that had made him fly back in spite of his plans had indeed been true.

"You've never been one to loose any time", he mumbled under his breath, grinning broadly as his tired feet in the worn out leather boots carried him further into town, towards the massive walls of the castle that towered like mountains. "But that sure was quick!"

Long red hair falling around a big, heavy sailor's bag in messy waves, loosely tied up in the neck, covering a wide traveller's cape caked in sun-bleached dust, worked its way through the busy crowd and disappeared again within but moments.

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