Someone had been in here. Recently. While she'd been at dinner.
Elara's heart hammered, but she forced herself to stay calm and think. She had a habit—some might call it obsessive—of arranging things in very specific ways. Every buckle at a particular hole. Every lock aligned just so. Every trunk positioned at an exact angle.
It drove the servants crazy. But right now, it might have just saved her life.
She glanced at her door. The fox knight stood guard outside. She could call him in. Get help checking everything.
But then he'd know. He'd tell the others. Word would spread through her household that someone had breached her room again. People would panic. Get sloppy. Make mistakes.
And whoever did this would know she'd noticed.
No. Better to handle this alone. Quietly.
Elara opened the first trunk carefully, working by lamplight. She pulled out clothes layer by layer until she reached the bottom.
