Barbara sneaked out of the inn through a back door in the kitchen. Kaisar might have placed someone to watch her, so she couldn't risk him finding out where she was going—a secret she shared only with Kristie. She would not allow Kaisar to know what Kristie had left her.
As she passed the stables, she glanced at a shovel resting beside a haystack. She smiled and walked on.
When the chariot stopped, Barbara got down and thanked the driver for bringing her close to her destination. She walked slowly through the cemetery, the crisp autumn air biting at her skin.
The trees around her stood in varying shades of ochre and amber, their leaves rustling like whispers of forgotten memories. She examined them but found no marks. It was a quiet, melancholy place—a reminder of lives once lived.
