The palace grounds were quieter than usual, cloaked in the hush that only came with night. Elira kept her head down beneath her dark cloak, her steps light as she made her way past the guards.
Her heart thudded against her ribs like a warning drum, but she didn’t stop.
She shouldn’t be here.
Not at this hour, not alone.
But the need for answers was louder than her fear.
She slipped through a side entrance, one she remembered from her childhood visits and crept along the narrow halls that led toward the royal archives.
The deeper she went, the colder the air became, heavy with dust, secrets, and time.
At last, she reached the great wooden doors of the archive. They towered above her, their metal handles old and cool under her fingertips.
She pushed gently, and with a soft groan
