The air in the palace kitchens was thick with the aroma of ginger and simmering rice. Mau, a young apothecary of renowned talent, but humble beginnings, stirred a pot of porridge with a furrowed brow. She wasn’t concerned about the recipe – her knowledge of herbs and remedies was unmatched. No, her anxieties stemmed from the pale hand that trembled slightly on the silken sheets in a nearby chamber.
It had all happened so quickly. Mau was abruptly seized from her bustling apothecary, a sack thrown over her head, the only sound the rhythmic thud of horses’ hooves against the cobblestones. Her heart pounded against her ribs like a frantic bird. When the sack was finally removed, she found herself blinking in the opulent, yet undeniably suffocating, grandeur of the Emperor’s Palace.
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