And with that, Mirella was gone, bolting though the last barrier of royalty until she was out the iron-banded doors. She looked back only once. She was taking a huge risk slipping away to use the secret passage. Especially now, as the crowd was peppered with Red Robes.

Like snakes, the Red Robes always traveled in pairs, and she watched as they wound their way amongst the lords and ladies, picking up every careless word. Tongues were loose tonight, and there would be much to report to Elymas. 

            She scanned the crowd for Strout and Root, but they were missing. Were they looking for her?  Mirella shrugged. Time was of the essence. The Queen must hear the news as quickly as possible yet if she were caught, no explanation would satisfy. Even so, she slipped behind the gonfalon of the House of Anjhest, a banner bearing six black horses racing round a circle of green on a yellow background, and made a dash down a dark, narrow hall. 

This Textured Darkness, copyright Joan Spilman, 2023