The watcher adjusted their stance, careful not to make a sound as the stable door creaked faintly again—this time opening outward.
From the shadowed frame emerged a man. Tall, broad-shouldered. He bore no royal seal, but he walked like he owned any room he entered.
The watcher's gaze narrowed as the man stepped out into the moonlight, his cloak flung casually over one shoulder, hair slightly mussed and lips still curved in a way that betrayed satisfaction.
He paused just long enough to glance up at the high towers of the palace, as if checking to see whether he'd been observed.
Then he strode away, boots whispering over the gravel path, vanishing between two hedgerows without a backward glance.
As soon as the coast was clear, the person watching from the shadows stepped forward and stealthily made their way into the deserted stables.
The stable door creaked open a third time.
The watcher slipped inside, cloaked in the darkness like a shade.
