When the village’s guards had informed her that an outsider had been
captured in the forest, Lara assumed it had to be someone who had
been hired to track her down - to see if she’d perished in the harsh,
unrelenting climate of the rainforest or to rescue her, if she’d merely
ended up stranded or injured.
What she didn’t expect was for it to be Quentin.
As he was brought before her, she couldn’t hide the shock on her
face. And, surely, her own appearance must have been surprising
considering she’d been attired in a dress crafted from brilliant blue
and green feathers, paired with a crude gold circlet on her brow,
and a iron manacle clasped about her ankle. She sat upon a throne
on a dais in the middle of a enormous hut. Revered and imprisoned.
❝What on Earth are you doing here?! Are you alright?! Were you harmed?❞