Chapter 115: Order
Noelle walks through the bustling streets of the capital, the vibrant energy of the marketplace enveloping him. He asked Thorne to drop him off on his way to the royal palace, and now he strolls among the crowds, with Doris dutifully trailing behind him. He pulls the hood of his robe lower, shielding his face from prying eyes as he navigates the lively scene. The scents of street food waft through the air, tempting him to sample the various delicacies on offer.
As he wanders, his attention is suddenly caught by a commotion nearby. He spots a beautiful older woman, her rich brown skin adorned with intricate markings, being pushed to the ground in front of a tent. She stands up, brushing off her clothes with an air of dignity, and when she turns, their eyes meet. Her striking purple eyes shimmer with a unique intensity, captivating Noelle.
She smiles warmly at him and gestures for him to come closer. For a moment, he hesitates, unsure of her intentions. But as she approaches, he feels an inexplicable pull toward her. "Well, hello," she greets him, her voice smooth and inviting. Just then, Doris steps in front of her, a protective barrier.
"I mean no harm," the woman says, raising her hands in a gesture of peace. "It’s just that your master here seems to need my services." The bangles around her wrists clink together in a melodic rhythm as she speaks.
"It’s okay, Doris," Noelle reassures her, sensing the tension in the air. With a reluctant nod, Doris steps back, though her watchful eyes remain on the woman.
"Hmm, come with me," the mysterious woman says, beckoning Noelle into her tent. Inside, he’s greeted by a mesmerizing array of charms and trinkets, each exuding an air of mystery. She guides him to a chair opposite her, settling down with a knowing smile as she rests her arms on the table.
"Now, is she gonna be around the whole time?" the woman asks, glancing at Doris.
"Doris, leave us," Noelle commands, but Doris stands firm.
"I can’t, my lord," she replies, unwavering in her loyalty. He knows Doris won’t budge easily, but the woman merely sighs in response.
With a slight tap on the table, the atmosphere shifts dramatically. They are suddenly enveloped in swirling purple fog, stretching endlessly beyond the confines of the tent. Despite the surreal surroundings, Noelle feels an odd sense of calm wash over him. There’s something familiar about the woman, a sensation he can’t quite place.
"Aren’t you a brave one?" she says, amusement dancing in her purple eyes.