[ At the present. ]
As Caym strode through the dimly lit hallways of the Rose Palace, his steps echoed with urgency. His face was etched with a seriousness that bordered on grim, casting a shadow of apprehension over the night guards stationed along his path.
As he passed them by, their eyes widened with surprised and trepidation, instinctively standing firmly and on guard.
Finally, he arrived at the door to Ingrid's chambers, his heart pounding with dread and determination. He knew Ingrid would not call him in the middle of the night for nothing. Pausing for a brief moment to collect himself, he raised his hand and knocked against the polished wood.
"Your Highness," he called out, his voice cutting through the stillness of the night. In his mind, the thought of attracting attention didn't matter anymore.
