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The WeatherMaker - Prince of Light By Lady Lilium Characters: 5033

Updated: 2018-07-10 19:03

He approached the chair slowly where she sat; walking around it and touching her hand gently to let her know that he was there.

She jumped slightly.

'It's alright' Luke spoke loudly to her, but in a gentle voice. 'It's only me.'

'Oh' she sighed, leaning back in her chair and relaxing again. 'Luke, thank gods it's just you.'

'It's ok' Luke smiled sadly at her, pulling up a chair beside hers. 'I'm here...'

Chapter Eleven

It was many weeks later that it took for Miranda to get some of her strength back. She no longer needed a stick to walk, and she no longer needed her son around to help support her, and for this she was grateful. Things had even gone so far for her to even feel safe leaving her floor. Now, she walked the corridors with pride.

'I won't let you beat me down' she had said over and over again to herself, 'I won't allow myself to lose to you.'

This had become her mantra; it was what had helped her become strong again these past few weeks.

On this morning she strode down the corridors, dressed in dark clothes. She passed one of the council members by chance along the way.

'My lady' the man said as she approached. 'What a surprise to see you after all this time.'

'Shove it Tarrant' Miranda told him without a pause. She stopped then, turning to face him properly now. 'I hope all of you die' she told him plainly. 'I hate all of you, you are nothing but poison. I know what you did to me.'

She turned on her heel and marched away without another pause, not even waiting for his reaction.

She came to her first flight of stairs, staring down at them reluctantly.

'Not these fucking stairs again' she sighed, gazing about her, 'I forgot how many there were…'

She began the long arduous trek down through the palace to the lower levels, reaching the ground floor, where she was met with her servant in the kitchens.

'Here' her new handmaiden said to her, handing her a dark hooded cloak. 'The way out back is clear.'

'No guards?' Miranda queried.

'They left half an hour ago' the handmaiden replied as Miranda put the cloak on and raised the hood over her head. 'You had best be swift however' she said. 'I don't know when they will be back.'

Miranda nodded briskly, slipping through the servant's door and outside into the garden. Here she used a rope and grappling hook to climb over the wall, landing heavily on the other side.

There were people in the street just beyond the wall, they gave her strange stares as she remained wh

ere she had fallen, kneeling in the dirt, body hunched over as she waited for the pain to subside.

She rose at last, wobbling slightly. She glanced back up at the wall, seeing the servant's head peering over the top. The handmaiden would wait for her to return, and keep a look out. She had promised.

'Thank you' Miranda whispered back to her, before the servant's head vanished, back behind the walls of the palace.

'Miss' spoke a man approaching her. 'Are you alright?'

She instantly whipped out a knife, pointing it at him. She knew of the streets, she knew how dangerous it could be out here, a place where the strong would prey on the weak. It was just like everywhere really.

'Stay back' she hissed venomously at him. 'I don't need your help. Touch me and I'll kill you.'

He backed away sharply, and she flicked the knife back, hiding it again beneath her cloak.

She began to walk, moving swiftly, she traversed the maze that was the city.

She knew her destination, knew her path and went without pause. Miranda reached the place minutes later, a dingy building, unremarkable in every single way, which made it the perfect place for thieves and mercenaries and veterans to meet. This is where she had met Tim all those years ago, back in the days when she didn't have to sneak out of the palace in secret.

She opened the small door at the side of the building, stepping through quickly. Inside was a bar filled with burly dangerous looking men who were drinking and gambling. A barmaid ran back and forth with drinks and taking orders, and behind the bar itself there stood an older gentleman, leaning forwards upon the rotting wood with his chin resting in his palm. He stared down at an open book and seemed to be writing calculations.

Miranda narrowed her eyes on seeing him. She approached.

'Bar master?'

The older gentleman blinked up at her, straightening.


'I need assistance.'

'Of what sort?' the bar master droned. 'You look too old to be whoring….no offense…' he added lazily.

'I am the queen.'

'The queen has not been seen in years' the bar master sighed wearily. 'I don't have time to waste' he said, returning his attention back to his book.

'I am the queen' Miranda said again.

'The queen committed suicide after the death of her husband.'

'Are those the rumours?'

The bar master straightened again, looking at her closely.

'My name is Miranda. My husband was the late king Carl and my sons are the princes Luke and Cam.'

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