Untitled Episode2
1213 Words
Chapter 2
***************
The news didn’t take long to spread. In the palace, nothing ever stayed hidden for long—not even whispers.
Sarah was still folding her things when she noticed it. The silence around her had changed. Not the normal quiet of servants working. This one had weight.
People were talking, but stopping the moment she looked their way. Eyes shifted, voices dropped. Conversations broke apart like they had never existed.
Sarah slowed her movements, then continued folding anyway. She had learned something early in the palace.
“If you react, you feed it.”
And she was tired of feeding things she didn’t understand. Still, something about today felt different.
“The Lower East Wing…”
The words came from behind her. Soft and careful. Almost afraid to say it too loudly.
Another voice answered immediately.
“She won’t last there.”
Sarah stopped what she was doing for a second—then continued folding her clothes. Her hands were steady even when her chest wasn’t.
The head maid appeared at the doorway. No warning, no greeting. Just presence.
“Come,” she said.
That was all and Sarah followed. The palace corridors began to change slowly at first. Gold decorations faded into dull iron. Marble floors lost their shine. The windows grew smaller, narrower, as if even the sunlight had started to withdraw from this part of the building.
The air felt heavier the deeper they went. Sarah noticed it in her breathing before she noticed it with her eyes.
“Is this wing always this quiet?” she asked.
The head maid didn’t turn.
“No one important stays here long enough to make noise.”
That answer ended the conversation. They turned corridor after corridor. Until Sarah realized something difficult. She no longer recognized the way back. The palace she knew was gone behind them. What remained felt, sealed off. Like a section of the world that had been deliberately forgotten.
Eventually, they stopped.
“This is where I stop,” the head maid said.
Sarah frowned.
“What do you mean?”
The woman finally looked at her. Not unkindly. But not warmly either.
“From here,” she said, “you go alone.”
Then she turned and walked away. Silence swallowed everything the moment she left. Sarah stood there for a moment longer than necessary.
Then she exhaled softly.
“Of course,” she muttered. “Alone.”
And she stepped forward. The Lower East Wing was not ruined. It was worse. It was maintained just enough to survive but never enough to feel alive.
The walls were strong, but lifeless. The torchlight flickered low. Dust clung to corners like it had stopped being noticed long ago.
Every sound Sarah made felt too loud. Even her breathing. She then turned to a corner but stopped. She heard footsteps. She froze instantly.
“Hello?” she called.
No response. Only silence stretching deeper into the corridor. Then, she noticed a figure standing at the far end of the corner, still and watching.
Sarah couldn’t see the face clearly at first just shape and posture. Due to the person's posture and height ,she knew it was a man. But something about the way he stood made her step back without thinking.
He wasn’t moving. Just observing.
Then slowly, he turned his head and looked at her. Sarah didn’t breathe properly for a second. The silence changed. It wasn’t empty anymore. It was more like, controlled and measured. Like the corridor itself was waiting to see what would happen next.
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
The voice came from her side. Sarah turned quickly.
A young man stood a few steps away. She hadn’t heard him approach her. He looked around her age. Calm face, careful eyes. He had on the kind of expression that didn’t trust easily.
His gaze moved from her to the older man at the end of the corridor then back again. Something in his expression tightened. Not anger, but recognition or concern. Maybe both.
“I’ve been assigned here,” Sarah said quickly. “To the Lower East Wing.”
The young man didn’t answer immediately. He looked toward the older figure again. Then back at her. Like he was deciding something.
Finally—
“Of course,” he said quietly.
Not surprised. Just… resigned.
Sarah frowned slightly.
“I’m sorry… who are you?”
A pause.
Then—
“Adrian.”
Just that. No title and no explanation.
The silence after his answer felt heavier than before.
Sarah shifted slightly.
“I didn’t mean to intrude,” she said. “I was just told to report here.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed a fraction.
“Who sent you?”
“The head maid.”
That changed something. Not much but enough.
A flicker passed through his expression—gone too fast to fully read. Behind him, the older man still hadn’t moved. Still watching. Still silent. Still… unsettled. Sarah noticed it now.
The way his eyes followed her like he was trying to remember something he wasn’t allowed to say.
“What is this place?” Sarah asked before she could stop herself.
Adrian stepped forward slightly.
“Don’t start with questions.”
“I’m just trying to understand—”
“That’s the problem,” he interrupted.
Silence dropped again. It was sharp and controlled.
He lowered his voice.
“This wing doesn’t work like the rest of the palace. People here don’t ask questions. They don’t stand out. And they don’t last long if they do.”
Sarah met his gaze.
“I belong here now.”
A beat. Then Adrian looked at her properly like he was seeing her for the first time and deciding she didn’t understand what she had stepped into.
“Follow me,” he said finally.
They walked. The older man remained behind. Still watching, until the corridor bent and he disappeared from view. But even then, Sarah felt it. Like his eyes hadn’t left.
The deeper they went, the narrower the corridors became.
Less light, fewer doors, more silence and more weight. Then Sarah stopped.
A wall of portraits lined the corridor. Old royal family paintings. Faded but still watching. Something about them pulled her in. She stepped closer.
“Don’t.”
Adrian’s voice was immediate and sharp.
Sarah blinked. “What?”
“Don’t look at them.”
“Why not?”
Adrain paused and it was longer this time.
Then—
“Because some things are not meant to be remembered.”
Sarah frowned.
“But that doesn’t make sense.”
Adrian didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped slightly closer and lowered his voice.
“If you want to survive here… stop asking the wrong questions.”
Then he walked away leaving her there. Sarah stood still. Then slowly turned back to the portraits and that was when she saw it.
A symbol.
Carved faintly beneath the frame. It was a crown, wrapped in vines.
Her breath slowed because she had seen it before, somewhere but she couldn’t remember where.
And for the
first time since entering the Lower East Wing…Sarah stopped feeling like she had been reassigned and started feeling like she had been placed there for an assignment.
- Writer
