Nerine's scream tore through the silence like the wail of a banshee, shrill and unrestrained, reverberating down the stone passageways of the ancient castle. It was the kind of sound that no music, no laughter, and no dance could disguise—it carried dread, raw and human, like a knife cutting through velvet sharply.
Footsteps thundered almost instantly. The distant echo of startled guards rang against the walls, their boots clattering over the polished floors as they rushed toward the cry. Nobles murmured in confusion, some frozen, others quick to follow the sound to assess the situation.
