She abandoned the maid and ran down the hallway that preceded the King’s chambers. She noticed she was the only one running towards or from that direction. Strange indeed!
Her grandmother, the King’s father lived just at the next hallway and this particular one was usually full of guards even when no member of the royal family was around.
Something told her to stop running and hide. She would have ignored that voice in her, but she remembered what she had seen on the street and she made for the nearest room to her. She closed the door just in time to hear the shuffling of feet in the hallway. When she was sure the feet had passed by the room she was hiding in, she opened the door a crack and saw the retreating figure of the King’s mother. But something about the old woman was not quite right. The old woman was walking briskly, taking giant strides, and covering distance like a King’s guard on duty. Her walking stick was firmly tuck in her armpit, obviously she didn’t need it.
But just as if she had read Freya’s thought, she stopped walking and looked behind her suspiciously. Freya pulled her head back in and waited till she heard the footsteps again, but this time, it was different.
She peeked out of the slightly opened door again and was just in time to see the old woman limping with a walking stick in hand.
She knew at once, that the person she had seen wasn’t her grandmother, it was the witch.