Before the maid could run far enough, the cloaked woman's voice cut through the corridor like a whip. "Wait." The single word carried authority, not shouted, yet sharp enough to still the air. The maid froze mid step, her polished shoes scraping against the stone floor, and turned slowly as though caught under a spell.
The cloaked woman stood several tiles away, her chin tilted high beneath the shadow of her hood, the action showing that rather than just a simple sorceress, she might have been someone who was once raised and taken care like a noble. She crossed her arms, the gesture snappy and cold as she looked down upon the maid as if inspecting a thief caught red-handed.
The maid, who is in fact Cassius in disguise, swallowed, his slender fingers twitching nervously against his apron. His every movement was deliberately timid, calculated to perfection. He fiddled with his hands, shifting his weight from foot to foot, lowering his head in false guilt.
