Malvoria's feet barely touched the ground as she sprinted through the dense forest, her long crimson hair whipping wildly behind her. She wasn't thinking—she was moving.
Twelve kilometers.
It wasn't far.
It wasn't far enough to justify the burning rage building in her chest, clawing its way up her throat.
Her boots pounded against the damp earth, dust kicking up in her wake as she pushed herself faster, ignoring the sharp sting in her muscles.
Her assistant struggled to keep pace, panting heavily as he stumbled over roots and uneven terrain. "Y-Your Majesty—please, slow down—"
Malvoria didn't slow down. She didn't even look back.
"Talk," she ordered, her voice a sharp blade cutting through the night air. "Tell me everything."
