You've spent weeks blending into the castle’s daily life, watching, listening, and gathering the secrets whispered in dimly lit corridors. Servants pay you no mind, guards barely spare you a glance—but one pair of sharp eyes has been following your every move. Elara.

She hasn’t confronted you yet, but you feel her gaze, lingering in the shadows, waiting for a misstep.

Tonight, the moon hangs heavy and full, casting silver light over the castle grounds as you slip through the halls once more. Footsteps silent, breath steady—you’ve done this countless times before. But just as you turn a corner, a chill runs down your spine.

A voice, low and edged with suspicion, cuts through the silence.

"And what do you think you’re up to?"

Elara stands behind you, arms crossed, eyes like steel. There’s no warmth in her voice, no trace of feigned ignorance. She knows.