Freedom comes at a price and a young Earthal princess must live the life of somebody else, even if it means facing evil threats and impossible odds.
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As someone who craves freedom, Princess Clarabelle cannot just stand by and let her life be take...
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CLARA AND EMIR'S pursuit of the unsuspecting woman lasted for one train ride and a couple of blocks of walking.
They had wasted no effort in navigating. The flurry of snow that carried them appeared to have a mind of its own. Could it be the master pulling the strings as he watched over the basin? No matter whose power it was, it saved them a whole lot of energy and time.
The street they were on now wasn't bright with decorated store windows like the one they had just left. Some places were boarded up and there was a lot of writing on the buildings and some of the streetlights were broken. A guy with a beard was sitting on the curb, clutching a bottle. He stretched out his hand to the woman as she passed him.
Clara felt pity and she was tempted to turn around and give the necklace she wore but remembered no one could see or touch them. So she kept her eyes on the woman and didn't look back again.
The snow was falling faster now, and the sidewalk was getting slippery. The woman stumbled once, cursed, but managed not to fall.
How far was she going? she wondered. Four blocks later she had her answer. The woman stepped into the entranceway to an old building, stuck her key in the lock, and went inside.
They raced to catch the door before it closed behind her. They couldn't afford to let her out of their sight again.
The hall was dark and gritty, and the smell of stale food hung in the air. Ahead of them, they could hear footsteps going up the stairs... and voices. The sound led to the door at the end of the hallway. A warm light flooded beneath the door and shadows moved about as people inside sat, scraping the chairs on the rickety floorboards.
The snow eased them down, as featherlight as possible as if beneath them was a pool of cotton. Emir and Clara nodded resolutely to each other before passing through the door.
More than a dozen people occupied the room. While others sat on the chairs, each of them had a person standing on guard on their backs. They were arranged around the solitary table with not even a drink to indicate they wouldn't stay for long. Not an ounce of formality was wasted. Other than the burning fireplace at one end of the room, there wasn't much to lift the sorry state of the dark, cold room. No one had thought to make the place welcoming.
"Eowyn," a deep, low voice. broke the silence. The man wore round glasses and a top hat. His gray mustache bristled as he huffed. "I wouldn't put it past you to arrive late as you so love being in the spotlight."
Eowyn, the woman Clara and Emir were following, sat even straighter, crossing her legs. Her wide-brimmed hat cast a shadow on half of her face, but it didn't quite hide her sneer. Her lips quivered at the corner, however, she could only do much not to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he affected her. The things she went through before getting there already sent her temper skyward. The other people in the room shifted on their seats as they expectantly watched the two's exchange.
