Dark blue was the night sky. Underneath it, shades of black filled with shadows of leaves on the trees. Yet, the pathway shone bright from the light of the full moon, not a star in sight.
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A small inexpensive carriage made of fine wood, and its windows barred with iron, strolled by the path with the unsteady sounds of the wheels in argument with the rocky ground. The huffs, the grunts and the uneasy neighing from the trudging horse, assisted by the sound of whipping were sound of the night. Its prisoners whispered in silence until they arrived at the sight: their destination; the palace.
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The horse reached the road to the palace, and the whipping seemed to intensify. The gates were opened in expectation of their arrival that night. The coachman landed on his two booted feet, his hat tilted to cover his face. The smoke from the cigarette of which he smoked was dark and thick grey. His wear announced the motion of his movements while he thudded almost silently towards a part of the wall of the carriage before resting his back with his legs crossed, waiting.
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The carriage was not a fancy one.
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No, not at all. It was boxed at all fours, except that the first facing square opening of the carriage, directly opposite the head of the standing horse, was a pair of a barricaded doors, locked in chains.
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Whimpers were heard from the two small and opposing barred windows at the sides of the carriage, which disgusted the coachman, prompting him to kick against the carriage violently as a sign for them to shut up.
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Soon, a butler was spotted leaving the palace doors. The carriage was at the spacing before the fountain. The distance from the main gates of the palace to its building was a seven minutes trudging of an angry horse.
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First, you were welcomed by the glimmering of the leaves on trees, due to the slightly bright lighting that emitted from the palace windows, outlining the castle's form, as a result of the lit candles on the chandeliers, whose rays announced royalty.
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The bushes that surrounded the smooth pathway that curled out the road to the garden before the palace, was nothing beyond perfection. Not a dot or scratch could be spotted on the smooth path.
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Next was the garden. It had leaves of bushes shaped in human-like-sculptures, sculptures of animals and cupid, and at the center of it all, a gorgeously grand fountain that looked beautiful in the golden light.
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"Do you have what the King has requested?"
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The coachman kicked the carriage once more backwards, while still resting his body on the carriage, and the sound of startled females followed.
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"The King has requested I see the package before it's delivered."
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The coachman raised his head up slightly, with his hat on to look at the butler, who seemed to piss him off.
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'Who does this butler think he is?'
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The coachman reached into his jacket and removed a bunch of old keys, before dangling it in front of the butler. He spat out his cigarette, and smashed it into powder with his boot before turning to open the barricaded doors of the carriage.