~Becklan's POV~
He didn't erupt in the rage I expected. Instead, he simply straightened his posture and began to turn.
"Beck," he said, his voice menacing. "Follow me. Now."
He didn't wait for an answer. He spun on his heel and strode back toward his private quarters, his footsteps echoing like a death knell in the silent hallway.
My colleague looked at me with pity and panic in their eyes, but I couldn't move for a second. I had crossed a line, I had gone too far.
I swallowed hard, smoothed down my short maid gown with trembling hands, and walked out of the kitchen. Each step toward his room felt like I was walking toward my own execution.
I reached the front door of his room, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard it felt like it might bruise. I hesitated for a fraction of a second, then pushed it open.
