Valencia

There was a loud banging on the front door of the manor. Even though the manor was a rather large estate, one didn’t have to knock with excessive force in the middle of the night in order to be heard.

I wiped my hands on my apron as I trotted down the marble steps to the first floor, curious as to who’s bothering us during the late evening.

Two men in armor barged through at the slightest sign of the door opening. I recognized the color scheme and weaponry around their hips.

It was the King’s patrol.

She then folded her arms and glanced at me, giving a quick nod, “Go get the paper, Yuria. I want to read what’s on it.”

“As you wish,” I humbly replied.

“We don’t have all night,” the guard announced. He eagerly shook his fist that held the scroll and urged Madame Valencia to come down to collect the paper.

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