Lachme Valerios took four palace steps at a time. They were short and shallow, and even bounding as she was, her descent felt too slow. Her wide skirts flew behind her, her carefully done bun unraveling with each step. Within moments, her lungs burned; sand was in the air.
She reached the first of two palace gates, the intricate wrought-iron layers revealing packed streets beyond. Two guards spotted her and rushed to open the first gate. Lachme slithered through, but then she had to wait for the first gate to close and the second to crack wide. Then finally she was out and in the crowds.
She spotted her car, wood gleaming across the wide street, and with a wave of her hand, one of her Protector escorts kicked out to join her. But Lachme did not wait for him to reach her before she set off. People crammed every available space on the sloping street, and more poured out from their homes, their shops, and their offices to see what had happened.
She passed a grocer, his body sprawled over hi…
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