Slave Establishment
Critic-Izinghale, Critic-Ishire.
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The carriage rattled along the dirt road, its wooden wheels creaking under the weight of its passengers. The sun was sinking lower, casting an amber hue across the sky as the sisters, Lydia and Helena, stared ahead, their minds racing with thoughts of the mission before them.
Determination filled their hearts as they considered the plight of the captives they sought to free. Each passing mile brought them closer to the mysterious slave establishment they had only heard whispers about. But now, they were in the thick of it, their identities hidden from their captors.
Suddenly, the Marchioness, sitting across from them, spoke up. "My name is Laura. May I ask yours?"
Before the sisters could respond, another woman chimed in. "What were you doing on that road alone?"
