*Bzzzzzz...*
There. Left wall. The sound was clearer now that the curtains were drawn and the ambient noise reduced. Not just near the wall—*in* the wall. Or attached to something on the wall.
She walked slowly, eyes still closed, following the sound like a hunting cat tracking prey through grass. Four steps. Five. Six.
Stop.
She opened her eyes.
Directly in front of her hung a portrait. Landscape orientation. Pastoral scene—rolling hills, distant mountains, a stream cutting through green fields. Completely generic. The kind of painting you saw in a dozen palace rooms, mass-produced by court artists to fill empty wall space.
This portrait had been here when she'd first claimed this office. She'd never moved it. Never examined it closely. Just... accepted it as part of the room's existing furniture.
*Bzzzzzz...*
The sound was coming from behind the frame.
