|Enrique Lorenzo Vasquez|
“Slow down, Mirrielle! Damn it!” I called out in worry but she was too oblivious to hear it. Before I could even catch up to her, she was already in front of the common toilet for the servants and workers of the Alcazar.
Mirrielle stood in front of the small room with her eyes focused on whatever was below her. She did not make a move. She remained standing in front of the toilet’s door, deeply rooted. When I finally manage to catch up, my attention immediately landed on the woman lying down on the floor. I saw the red liquid running in one direction. It was just then when I realized that what the servant reported earlier was true. Mirrielle’s handmaiden is bleeding and unconscious. And seeing the amount of blood pooling the floor was enough sign that she might
