The carriage rolled quickly down the bumpy, uneven dirt roads leading to the lower city. The wheels made a loud, constant grinding sound.
Inside the dark carriage, the atmosphere was absurd. It did not feel like a kidnapping at all.
Camilla sat very comfortably on the soft velvet seat. She smoothed down the front of her dress. She leaned her back against the cushions, looking relaxed.
Sitting across from her were the two large, scarred thugs.
The two massive men were pressed tightly together on the opposite velvet seat. They kept their knees squeezed closely together. Their hands were resting stiffly on their laps. Drops of cold sweat were rolling down their scarred faces. They stared blankly at the floor of the carriage, refusing to make eye contact with her. They were breathing very heavily, paralyzed by fear of what she might do.
Camilla watched them. An amused smile formed on her pink lips.
She thought to herself, her internal voice full of laughter.
