Kendra's Point of View.
I had barely escaped the last time, walking stealthily into the castle like anyone would likely stir in the early hours of the morning.
"Good morning, Kendra." A feminine voice called out.
"You don't have to call out that loud in the morning," I whispered in the direction of the voice. It was a cleaner, a blonde girl, her long blond hair tied in a ponytail behind her, her laundry basket in her hands.
"I'm sorry it sounded so loud, I thought I whispered. I'm sorry." She apologized, and she came closer like she was about to share something important with me.
"It's fine, Good morning, Eva." I greeted her. She was usually one of the early comers, mostly because of the information she could get from cleaning the rooms early, who slept with whom, and whatever was the
