Hidden Clues
Vera slipped through the tapestry-lined corridor before dawn, the hush of pre-dawn stirring only her own breath and the soft click of her boots against marble. In her hand, she carried the silver-chased music box she had retrieved the night before—a gift from the king, he'd said, though its lid rattled as if harboring secrets of its own. Maris trailed two paces behind, torch tilted so its glow danced across the stone walls.
At the library's heavy oaken doors, Vera paused. “You stay here," she whispered, voice taut. “If I don't return in ten breaths, you alert the sentry at the east gate."
Maris inclined his head. “Understood, Majesty." He melted back into the shadows, leaving her alone before the carved wolf's head-knocker.
She raised a gloved fist and rapped three times:―
