A shout of thanks to Corleon for his golden ticket!
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Countess Beatrice, her chestnut hair flowing behind her like a banner, ran through the bustling city streets. Her face was a mix of determination and desperation as she was flanked by her loyal attendants, her faithful followers, who had joined her in this unexpected and somber journey.
As she moved through the winding streets, the people of the city turned to look, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and concern. Beatrice's presence was well-known, and seeing her running through the city was an unusual sight that stirred intrigue.
Her flowing gown, typically elegant and regal, was now disheveled and billowing as she ran. Her steps were swift and purposeful, guided by the need to reach the port, to see the proof of her husband's fate with her own eyes.
