Although a fire was going in the servant common room adjacent to Prince Julian's apartments, the room may as well have been packed with ice. Not a single soul amongst the kneeling servants dared to let out so much as a single breath as they quivered before the empress, fearing their fate. The only one who did not shake was an old soul who knelt at the very back, resigned to his fate.
Unlike the younger, greener servants who had been selected to watch the strange bird that resided in Prince Julian's quarters alone, he had sensed something strange afoot from the moment he had been ushered in during the dead of night under a magical vow of silence that kept him from opening his mouth.
