Lannae carefully shut the door behind her, ensuring that even the soft click of the latch was barely audible. A single candle rested in her hand, its flame dancing with every movement and casting a warm golden glow along the corridor.
Barefoot, she moved through the palace with practiced caution. Her nightgown swept across the floor as she walked, the fabric whispering softly against the stone. Every few steps, she glanced over her shoulder, her heart refusing to settle.
The candlelight reached only so far.
Beyond its circle of warmth lay darkness.
And within that darkness, a figure followed her.
Silent.
Unwavering.
Reaching the library, she pushed the heavy door open and slipped inside. The familiar scent of aged parchment and polished wood greeted her. Towering shelves stretched into the shadows, packed with countless volumes gathered over generations.
She placed the candlestick on a nearby table before hurrying toward one of the shelves.
