The quill in her hand moved gracefully, leaving light, elegant strokes on the parchment.
Once she had finished sketching the outline of the sunset, Amalia glanced at the wall clock.
It was six twenty-five, almost dinner time.
Remembering that today was the day of the transaction, she quickly set down her pen, changed into her shoes and socks, and descended the spiral staircase to the ground floor.
At the entrance of the castle, a young maid carrying a dinner plate in one hand and a crumpled leather bag in the other gazed at Amalia with an expression that was hard to read, somewhere between sadness and satisfaction.
Noticing the slightly bulging bag in the maid's hand, Amalia's eyes flickered with a faint light.
She touched the few gems left in her pocket and sighed inwardly.
Taking out a finger-sized green agate, its translucent dark green surface glowed with a mesmerizing luster in the setting sun.