Or conceivably the guards were just foolish and weren't as canny and alert as she thought they would be?
Marlowe thought as she buried her head in a lowly gesture. Tailing right behind Marionette without lifting her head.
Perhaps it was because she's still unable to conjure that aura of majestic elegance that every blood of nobility held.
No matter how it was…she was still a lowly commoner from a humble background.
She felt the gazes of suspision the guards sent their way, but it wasn't on her—she realized.
It was on Marionette instead. Luckily, the smart Princess was wise enough to shield her face with her excess dark hair.
"Phew!" Marionette let out a puff of breath once they had gotten their way.
"We made it," she heaved, throwing a smile at Marlowe behind her, while wiping the hair to it's previous style.
"This way,"
Marionette's excitement returned back ten folds.
Obediently, Marlowe shadowed behind the princess.
Following her to a path that didn't look like a licit entry.
They were threading into a familiar path.
Bushes, trees, twigs and debrises.
Of course, Marlowe remembered this place too well.
It's horrifyingly familiar.
"Are we going through the woods?" choosing to be cautious, she questioned.
Marionette was floored at first to hear what Marlowe said.
"Y—yeah," she replied with a slight, tight smile.
"You know this place?"
Nodding once, Marlowe answered, "I do,"
Getting her unexpected response, Marionette returned her gaze in front, on the path ahead, hiding her bent brows which furrowed in confusion.
"I never expected that," she muttered, in a way that unveiled her surprise.
Meanwhile, being reminded of the cruel way in which she knew this place, Marlowe was grateful that the Princess had not bothered to ask 'how?'
Instead she followed quietly with puzzlement in her head.
A lot of questions as well.
Yes, she was confused, but not scared.
Along the way brought back sad and heart twisting memories; yet she was appalled by how the memory of being in his arm brought back the blush of many days ago.
Is she not supposed to be spiting him?
Well that can only happen if she sees him again.
But will she ever see him again?
Marlowe wondered.
Not aware when they had arrived at a busy location, not until the noise and clatter from the walking citizens rammed her ears, did she tumble back to earth.
An unconscious smile found its way, spreading her beautiful plump lips.
It's been a while since she has been out in the open.
Did she say a while?... it's been forever!
Her eyes instantly lit up from the sight of seeing people dressed in common outfits, purchasing things from the roadside hinders…and oh…the street foods!
Marlowe felt her mouth go dry, and her throat guggle to her hearing.
It's been ages since she had eaten the local meals readied by the poor old women of Valcresh.
Her tiny idyll was interrupted when she was abruptly pulled by Marionette to a distant direction, far away from where her eyes laid—maybe where her belly laid.
"Come, I'll show you where I get nice and pretty dresses," the excitement in her voice could not be beat with anything else.
Marlowe ticketed along, still being towed.
They arrived at a modestly big shop.
From the transparent door laced with wooden edges, Marlowe could detect that it was indeed the place of a modiste…a gown shop.
Marionette didn't waste time and immediately intruded, her eyes brimming with glitter as they traipsed on the dresses hung for display.
"We're gonna have fun for sure," she squawked and shook with excitement.
But Marlowe could only put on a blank stare, and turn at her at her declaration.
'Not that much,' was her silent response to Marionette's delightful mood.
Dresses and shopping were never her forte.
She preferred going to the forest to look for herbs, or rather assist her father in fishing, than spend luxury over dresses instead of food.
But oh, she forgot…she was just a commoner, a village peasant.
Suddenly a Queen in name…will she be able to adapt to this very lifestyle?
Definitely no!
Not even in a hundred years.
"Oh my, welcome Your Highness, it's a pleasure having you here," the voice of a woman bought their attention, as they both veered their heads to the owner of the voice.
It happens to be a young woman who looked to be in her late thirties, perhaps unmarried?
Her voice held formalities as she hurried to them.
"Greeting, to her Royal Highness," she vocalized with an eye to eye smile.
Only referring to Marionette.
Marlowe did not care, she sometimes even forgets about her new status as queen.
"I almost did not recognize you, Princess…" the woman said, glancing through Marionette's off attire today.
She knew the Princess was a posh lady, nothing like what she's seeing today.
Marionette only beamed at her, "I'm here today to pick dresses for my sister-in-law and I," she said, giving off her excitement.
"Sis—" the modiste was tongue tied by the Princess's words. Looking around, only then did she notice Marlowe's silent presence.
She blinked, the wheels of her mind spinning to catch up with the recent rumors concerning the Royal family of Valcresh.
Oh yes! It clicked.
The news that had brought immense terror to the people; both parents and child—families in a whole.
"Oh—," speechless, she started with a shocked chuckle.
"My p-pleasure to honor y—your presence, Your Majesty," the modiste bowed, her head almost touching her knees.
Overly dumbfounded, Marlowe didn't know what to say, scanning the woman there just now.
"Ah—rise, please," she muttered out. Already not liking the looks and whispers from the populace present in the shop.
As demanded, the modiste obediently rose.
Looking at Marlowe with a new light in her eyes.
But somewhere in those eyes, she could spot pity and sympathy.
Yeah, she almost forgot.
A smile of self mockery flashed in her now dull and vapid gaze.
From now, people are going to be looking at her with pity in their eyes.
What was she expecting?
Maybe she shouldn't have left the Castle in the first place?
"I have lovely dresses that will certainly suit Her Majesty, please come take a look, I assure you, you're going to love them."
She immediately blabbered, leading the way.
Ignoring the fact that she was literally ditched, Marionette didn't care, but rather followed behind the modiste, but was suddenly snatched by Marlowe by her hand.
She lingered, flickering an inquisitive brow at her.
"After the shopping…" Marlowe wavered, hesitating. Evident nervousness in the depths of her enviable irises.
"After the shopping, can you please…do me a favor?"
Her eyes staring at the Princess with hope.
A hope that revealed it was a last chance opportunity.