CHAPTER XXI

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CHAPTER XXI

With wind-battered hair and a disconnected mind, Althera submerged from beneath the blackness, not really looking where she was going

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With wind-battered hair and a disconnected mind, Althera submerged from beneath the blackness, not really looking where she was going. She never thought sunlight could be so embracing until the brightness poured over her. She squinted past it with a wince.

Shamefully, she was caught up in the darkness of the cramped area she was in, nervous and unprepared. The stairs always seemed to bend every time she stepped upon it, making her flinch, fearful of the growing chance that she wasn't going to make it the whole way. She did, however, though it took much more time than she intended to use. She'd discarded the torch on the landing before she entered the castle, not wanting to have to explain herself to whoever she came by. A girl covered in grime and ash with twisted hair wasn't pretty.

As she was climbing up the staircase, Althera discovered cracks along the walls which allowed wind and air to seep through, which was the reason why her hair was so unkempt and scruffy. Because it was nearly winter and she was stuck by herself in a cold, empty space which had stood for however many years - hundreds, or maybe even a thousand - with only a coat and a gown to wrap around herself, Althera was beyond whatever chill she'd been feeling outside in the garden. She wouldn't be surprised if she was blue in the face. The torch hadn't done anything but function as a guide and lead her up the stairs. And that hadn't been the best experience either. She could barely make out a single thing in that wretched place.

Dragging her hands under her rigid coat, Althera began heading in roughly the direction of her room, praying that no one would intercept her. She was certainly not in the mood to fend off gawking bystanders and impress expectant nobles when her body was so heavily frigid. Curse the cold temperature. But then she never really had to do anything to make them gaze at her in amazement. They just gathered around her like she was easily the most interesting person in the castle, which everyone knew she wasn't. It should be flattering, but Althera just found it deeply distracting. How could the highly respected and ranked nobles stand this at all?

She was just rounding the corner when the hallway was suddenly shrouded in the echo of voices. She stopped dead and swore colorfully to herself, pressing her body against the wall, the edged stone digging uncomfortably into her back as she peered tentatively over the marble column she was hiding behind. A few flirtatious courtesans surrounded a group of around a dozen off-duty guards. They were too busy speaking and grinning to themselves to spot her shrinking back. If they did see her, however, she'd already be crowded and pushed back and forth between each person as they admired her. She wished she never had to attend that meeting. Things would be as normal as ever when she didn't have to shy away from the ladies and men of court.

But she was going to be found out about, anyway, for they were coming toward her, still oblivious to her presence. Althera turned her head, hoping the hallway would offer some sort of protection. The shadows which used to cover the walls had now dissolved due to the glittering sunlight bearing through the windows. Even if she tried to escape from them by running down the hall, they would hear and come for her straight away. And she was no match for the burly guards in a gown. She could try and pass as a mere courtier, but then the others would just call her over and make her join them in their friendly little throng. She would hardly call if friendly, though.

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