The castle lay silent, blanketed in darkness save for the pale silver glow of the moon. Everyone believed the threat had passed. Everyone, including Sir Lancelot.

That was the only reason your plan had a chance.

Wrapped in a dark cloak, you crept through the side passage behind the kitchen, avoiding the guards with a grace that surprised even you. Your heart pounded—not from fear, but anticipation. You couldn’t stay locked in those walls any longer, safe or not. There were people in the villages who needed help. And you weren’t just a title in a tower.

But as you reached the stable, the cool night air brushing your face like freedom itself, a voice sliced through the silence like a blade:

“I should have known.”

You froze.