The Cursed Kingdom

EIGHT

Getting an idea as I stared at the time, I grabbed my freshly washed pink robe from off the bed and pulled it over the casual green dress I'd worn that day with a pair of black boots. I had to admit, despite the fact I disliked the Cursed Kingdom and the person who ruled it, the clothing was the finest I'd ever worn and much better than my handmade items. It was softer and weighed less yet kept me warm just the same; however, wearing the restrictive dresses, which were placed inside of my dresser while I was away during the day, instead of trousers was a bit tiring.

I walked out my bedroom door as silently as I could, recalling how my mother always went on strolls through the village to clear her head when she couldn't sleep or was stressed, so I decided to do the same, eager to breathe in fresh air again even though it'd only been a couple hours since I'd walked around the castle by Jerium's side. The hybrid had informed me during one of our tours that the gardens were always open and I was welcome to explore them whenever I wished.

So explore I shall, I thought with a sigh, wishing the circumstances were different.

I trekked down the corridors and down the stairs, greeting and thanking the polite servants as I went, who were cleaning up the palace for the night and closing all the hundreds of curtains in the endless hallways. When I made it to the glass doors that led outside to the gardens, the two guards looked at me, looked at each other, and then nodded before stepping away to let me through.

Their armor, high-collared suits of black leather with iron spaulders and cuffs, made them appear broader than they already were and I found myself growing nervous being so close to them, knowing how utterly useless I would be if they decided to hurt me. I always wondered how many people they'd killed and how many wars they'd seen to make it so they never smiled.

"It's cold out, Madam," the one on the right with a slim face said in a gravelly voice, gazing at the snowy outdoors disapprovingly. "I wouldn't be out there too long."

"Thank you. I shouldn't be gone too long," I said softly, meaning it. I wasn't planning to be out for more than a couple minutes, which I saw as more than enough time to clear my head.

When I stepped out onto the porch, the cold air practically slapped me in the face, making me cringe back for a moment from its harshness, and I pulled my robe tighter around me.

The door was closed for me as soon as I began walking, keeping a watchful eye on my footing so I wouldn't accidentally slip on the translucent ice that covered the stone flooring in random patches. As soon as I was within arm's length, I firmly grasped the thick, concrete railing and took each step down the curved staircase slowly and precisely until I finally made it down onto the level snow-covered ground.

The gardens, which expanded across the entire width of the palace, looked absolutely haunting with the snow almost seeming to glow against the darkness. Every bush, branch, and blade of grass was covered in an inch of bright white and they marked the path for me as I walked carelessly through, not having a particular route in mind.

Although the cold made me shiver and my teeth clatter together until it could've been considered painful, I didn't mind that much. I figured shivering from the cold was a lot better than quivering in fear.

The snow crunched under my boots, the sound turning hypnotizing, and I focused on it as I walked deeper into the walls of plants, my steps naturally slowing along with my heart's rhythm. After a couple minutes, like a type of magic, my head became heavier and I found it more difficult to keep my eyes open. An audible yawn passed my lips and I watched with a sort of childish giddiness as my breath turned into mist and then swirled up into the air.

Despite my drowsiness, I kept walking and walking and walking until I reached the outskirts of the garden, which was only a couple hundred feet from the woods. I stopped when I noticed there were no guards nearby and listened for footsteps. None.