Missy nodded and tucked the folded letter into her cloak, slipping into the dim hallway.
She moved swiftly, keeping to the shadows, the polished floors of the palace cold beneath her slippers.
The hall is mostly silent at this hour, the candle sconces dimmed. She knows the hidden route quite well, from Eleanor's chamber to the servants' back corridor.
But just as she rounded a corner, her shoulder crashed into someone.
A gasp escaped Missy's lips, and she stumbled backwards, but before she could stand, a petite female figure dressed in black from head to toe, her presence like a shadow peeled from the night.
The other person's face is half-covered, and her stance is tense, and her gaze was fixed on her.
Missy's heart jumps into her throat.
"Who are you?!" she demanded shakily, already backing up.
"Guards!"
Before the word was fully out, a hand snapped across her cheek with a sharp crack.
Missy's head whips to the side, stars bursting in her vision. She tried to scream again, but the figure shoved a bundle of cloth into her mouth.
A cane appeared in the attacker's hand, tiny, yet menacing and with a vicious glare in her eyes, she hit her severely with the cane.
The slap came fast, alternating with the harsh tap of the cane on Missy's arms, shoulders, and thighs.
She cries out behind the gag, the sound muffled and pitiful. Her limbs flail, her fingers claw uselessly at the attacker's cloak, but the assaulter doesn't waver.
Pain flares through her body like fire. The cane feels heavier with each hit, each strike calculated like punishment from a scorned governess.
Tears streaked down Missy's cheeks as she collapsed onto her bottom, her legs giving out.
The mysterious woman tears the letter from inside her cloak, glancing at it briefly before slipping it into her own robes and turning away.
With a swish of black fabric, she vanishes into the shadows.
Missy stays slumped on the ground, sobbing silently, face swollen and limbs trembling.
Finally, she spits out the gag and lets out a broken scream, hoarse and raw.
"Help! Guards!"
Luckily, she was discovered by one of the servants passing by, and he also called out for help on her behalf.
Missy tried to describe her attacker to them, but her lips felt too heavy and she fainted.
A few guards who hurried towards her went towards the direction she pointed in and tried hard to find whoever it was that assaulted her, but she was already gone from there.
~
Further down the dark halls, the cloaked figure walked briskly, keeping her head low.
She rounded another corner and ducked behind a tapestry, her hands working quickly.
With practiced ease, she pulled off the black garments and rolled them tightly, tucking them under a consort serving tray.
Beneath the disguise is June, Emilia's maid.
She adjusts the maid's uniform she now wears and pinches her cheeks to bring color to her face, and adjusts her dress rightly.
Then she slides the stolen letter beneath a napkin on the tray, her lips curling into a smirk of satisfaction.
"Serves you right," she muttered.
Just as she stepped out of the alcove, adjusting the tray in her hand and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, someone jumps in front of her, and she nearly crashes into him.
June jolted, clutching the tray tightly as she looked up.
She gasped softly, but steadied herself when she saw who it was.
Thomas.
He leaned casually against the wall, arms folded, a glint of mockery in his sharp eyes.
His sword hung by his hip, untouched, but his presence alone felt like a blade pressing against her throat.
His eyes gleamed with amusement as he stared at her, folding his arms.
"Impressive," he drawled, his tone mocking.
June froze, but she quickly composed herself, masking her alarm with an exhalation.
"General Thomas" June muttered, bowing her head quite lower than usual.
Thomas began to clap, slowly, his voice low.
"If I hadn't followed you myself, I'd have believed that act of yours. You are quite an actress."
June's eyes harden.
"I have no idea what you mean," she told him and stepped past him, but Thomas swung his sword out.
Just enough to block her path. The blade gleamed in the moonlight filtering through the high windows.
June pulled back in fear, holding the tray even more tightly.
"Where are you coming from, dressed like that a moment ago?"
She glared at him, her chin raised up.
"None of your business."
Thomas tilts his head, surprised she is still pretending.
"I saw what you did to that servant," he reveals, and June's jaw tightened. She tapped her finger on the tray anxiously and sweat rolled down her face.
She pursed her lips, refusing to answer him or say anything.
"Should I report it directly to the King?" he questioned, watching her hesitate.
June is scared by his threat but manages to stay calm.
"Then why didn't you stop me?" she asked .
Thomas is a little taken aback by her question and doesn't answer immediately.
He wanted to interfere earlier, but when he realized it was Eleanor's servant, he changed his mind and watched instead.
Silence followed between them, cold and suffocating, just like the surrounding air.
June speaks up after a beat, folding her arms.
"She insulted and beat up my sister in front of everyone today. I simply gave her a taste of her own medicine."
Thomas's grip on his sword slackened slightly.
"And the disguise?"
"To scare her," she answered flatly.
"And clearly, it worked," June added, a smirk escaping her lips.
Seeing that Thomas had nothing else to say to her, she bowed slightly, turned on her heel and strode away.
June walked into the Queen's Palace, her steps swift and silent, but the hem of her skirt darkened from dust and the night air.
Her hands tremble slightly from the encounter with Thomas, but she pushes the unease down and enters the chamber.
Emilia sat by the window, back straight, wrapped in a soft ivory shawl.
The moonlight spills in, catching the pale lines of fatigue on her face. She turned as June entered.