With the torch in one hand and the keys clutched tightly in the other, the knight hurried up the stairwell, his heart pounding heavily against his chest. When he reached the door, he lowered the torch to the floor and carefully fitted the key into the lock. A loud click echoed through the stairwell as the door swung open.
He quickly picked up the torch and pushed the door open just enough to slip inside. Its faint glow stretched across the room, revealing a lone figure lying motionless on a thin mattress.
The knight slowed his steps as he approached, raising the torch to get a better look. The figure was dressed in the plain clothes of a male commoner, but as the light fell across their face, recognition struck him.
It was the Princess of Weathbrow.
His expression changed immediately. He lowered himself onto one knee beside her and reached out, gently shaking her shoulder.
"Your Highness," he whispered, hoping she would wake.
"Princess Lannae," he called softly.
