Hours Earlier
Pandora walked through the corridor of the castle toward another quarter, rolling the food cart. She had developed a habit of dropping it off herself; she didn't like eating and then leaving the cart outside for the royal maids to take.
Besides, it was the best time to walk. She was at the last chapter of her book, done with editing, and now what was left was to write and edit the final chapter. Then she would be finished—maybe even publish it—though she was still uncertain about that part.
She finally reached the royal kitchen quarters, specifically for the people who cooked for the guards the maids were cleaning.
As usual, she walked in and dropped the rolling cart. She noticed a few stares, but she was already used to them. If you asked her, she would say it had become normal—every time she passed there, all they did was give her those dirty looks.
