Sylum.
I staggered back from the door, covering my mouth. The candlelight trembled in my hand, the flame bending toward the crack beneath the door like it wished to listen too.
There was a long pause then an audible gasp.
“You like her, don’t you?!” the woman seethed.
“Shut up!” Sylum snapped. His tone sent a violent shiver down my spine. There was a scuffle then a sharp crack, skin against skin.
Silence followed. Heavy and suffocating.
Then, the slow scrape of a chair.
Footsteps.
Coming closer.
Panic surged through me. I darted back down the tunnel, the candle danced wildly. The sconces blurred past. I turned the corner just as the door behind me creaked open.
Light spilled into the passage, chasing after melike a nightmare come to life.
My lungs burned as I tore through the narrow corridor. The shadows behind me shifted, moving fast. I didn’t dare look back.
I ran harder. The walls seemed to close in, the air thick and damp as the passage forked into two identical paths. My chest heaved as I spun in place, desperate for any sign of where to go.
The sound was closer now. Someone or something was moving with purpose.
Panic surged through me. I chose the nearest panel and pressed hard. It gave way with a groan, and I stumbled through, slamming it shut behind me just as footsteps reached the other side.
I turned, heart hammering. The room was dark, the air warmer here, familiar somehow. My eyes adjusted slowly, as I held the candle aloft, to the outline of rich drapery and the faint gleam of brass instruments on a desk.
Sylum’s study.
I leaned against the closed panel, breath ragged. Behind me, the wall was silent once more. Whoever, or whatever, had followed me hadn’t pursued.
Through the door at the front of the room came the low murmur of voices. Servants, still awake. I could make out Mrs. Ashby’s stern tone, the clatter of trays, the creak of the floorboards outside the study door. There was no way to slip past them without being seen.
My only option was to wait.
I sank into the chair by the fire, rubbing my arms as the minutes stretched painfully long. The house eventually quieted, but my mind did not. Every word I’d overheard in the hidden corridors echoed through my thoughts. There had to be something here. Some clue to what was happening inside these walls.
My eyes drifted to Sylum’s desk.
Perhaps there was.
I rose quietly, the floorboards sighing beneath my bare feet. My fingers brushed over the polished mahogany surface before I pulled open the top drawer. Ledgers. Receipts. Harmless things. I checked the next—stationery, ink, correspondence. The third—maps of the estate, folded neatly.
The final drawer didn’t budge.
Locked.
Frustration prickled my skin. I rifled through the other drawers again, searching for a key. Nothing. Not in the compartments, not under the papers. The key was nowhere.
With a defeated sigh, I slumped into Sylum’s chair. My head fell into my hands. My heart still thundered from my escape, but now… there was only exhaustion.
Then my knee brushed against something beneath the desk.
I froze.
