Chantria could hear the anxious whispers that spread through the crowd as the carriage rode down the streets of the capital city.
The usually bustling streets fell quiet wherever Chantria's carriage went by, Chantria was tempted to take a look out of her carriage but she decided against it.
She did not need to see the sympathetic looks of everyone, looks that told her she was on her way to meet her end as was the popular belief.
Chantria was walking down the exact same path that had claimed the life of a Saint, taking on the exact same trial, the common speculation was that Chantria would meet the same end.
Chantria did not think so, if she had been sent to this world for a reason, Chantria was not willing to believe she would die so easily.
And if she did die, it was just her lot in life.
"Trust my instincts, they said." Chantria murmured to herself.
