The Masked Truth Trial (1)
Argider had become something of a phantom within her own palace over the last few days, slipping through hallways, ducking behind curtains, and generally perfecting the art of avoiding Esmeralda.
It wasn't that she disliked the woman.
Well, maybe she did, just a little.
Esmeralda had a way of turning every interaction into an inquisition, her sharp questions and judgmental glares leaving Argider feeling as though she were back in the middle of her trials.
And frankly, she'd had enough of trials.
By the fourth day of her evasive maneuvers, Argider's skills had reached new heights.
She had learned which corridors echoed the loudest, where every secret passage was hidden, and even how to silence her boots on the stone floor.
But despite her best efforts, Esmeralda always seemed to pop up at the most inconvenient times, like a particularly persistent shadow.