Continue the Tale. Book 3. Chapter 3

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And with the commotion perhaps no one would stand in the way of the path to the stables where she could be consoled "for so much pain and shame" by hands that she had desired ever since she saw them approach the queen's tall rump too daringly.

That night, the palace was filled with chaos. A small fire was burning in the kitchen, servants were running around in panic, and in the distance could be heard the shouts of soldiers trying to control the chaos. He—Ravel, a young guard with eyes full of revenge and hidden desire—walked quickly towards the stables.

His steps were breathless, his heart beating wildly not only because of fear, but also because of the image of the soft hands of Inara, the daughter of the stablemaster, that had long haunted his mind. The hands that he had once seen boldly touching the queen's body as she helped her into the saddle, hands that looked so skillful, so seductive.

Behind the half-open wooden door of the stable, Inara stood, her hair loose, her face smeared with dust and sweat. Their gazes met. For a moment, the chaos in the palace seemed to disappear.

"Inara..." Ravel hissed, his voice hoarse.

“Ravel, what are you doing here? You should be in the tower…”

“I don’t care. I’m tired of holding it all in. The shame of not being able to protect the queen. The pain of holding back these feelings…”

Inara stepped forward, her hand reaching out, touching Ravel’s cold face. “The commotion will die down soon. But if you stay here, you’ll be in trouble.”

Ravel held her hand tightly. “Let me stay. Let me find peace here, with you.”

And amidst the smell of hay, the restless neighing of horses, and the dim light of the moon peeking through the roof of the stable, they found a momentary escape from the pain, the shame, and the world that was chasing them.