The man's dark eyes watched the great house from a hidden path, contempt etched across his face.
Days had passed since they first arrived, yet the mansion's sudden lockdown showed no sign of easing—the main gate and service exits stayed bolted, and patrols of guards and knights marched the perimeter in regular, methodical sweeps.
From time to time, a sentinel would pause and peer into the trees, as if scenting intrusion on the wind.
"Cr*p," Brone spat. "Did they know we were coming? Why else would they tighten security like this?"
His question came out more like a complaint than a query.
Derek studied the mansion's high walls. Through the iron grating, he could make out two groups of royal guards gathered near the gate, preparing to change watch.
Compared to the last time the pair had slipped in disguised as labourers, the place looked more fortified now.
"Must be because of our last breach," the mage said. "That princess is still alive. They're guarding her closely."
