A week had passed, and it had been a whirlwind of planning, scheming, and plenty of chaotic moments in between.
Thalindra, in her usual overly composed, devilishly cunning way, had mapped out a strategy. Of course, she claimed it was flawless, but I couldn't help but feel like I was a small rabbit about to be flung into a wolf den.
This was all supposed to "clear my name" or at least ensure I didn't become a criminal more notorious than Thalindra herself. A lofty goal, considering the wanted posters plastered all over the nearest village.
Thalindra had taken her role as mastermind very seriously. Every night, she would sit by the fireplace, scribbling on pieces of parchment, muttering to herself, and occasionally glaring at me when I asked too many questions.
"Would you stop pacing, Alyndra?" she snapped one evening, her eyes darting to me as I wore a path into the rug. "You're making me lose my train of thought."