I have finally lost my mind, Liera thought, her fingers trembling slightly as she clutched the edges of her thick woolen shawl.
She had actually done it. She had followed Herschel through a dusty, forgotten servant's tunnel that smelled of damp stone and ancient cobwebs. She had awkwardly climbed over a low, crumbling section of the eastern palace wall and was now walking the streets of the Capital as a commoner.
She had traded her pristine white healer's robes for a simple, nondescript dress of forest green, a garment she'd borrowed from a confused kitchen maid. Beside her, Herschel looked entirely too comfortable in his role as a fugitive. He had pulled a deep, dark hood over his face, obscuring the sharp, royal features that usually commanded the attention of every room he entered. Yet, even in the shadows, his height and the way he moved made him stand out to Liera's heightened senses.
