There was a little corner just behind the large mahogany desk I had been standing next to. The desk was grand, carved with intricate details of swirling vines and ancient symbols, the wood rich and dark. It wasn't much of a hiding place, but it was my only option. My heart raced as I realized how close the Watcher was—his shadow cast long and ominous on the floor from the faint light spilling in through the door.
Without thinking, I moved. I slipped behind the desk, crouching low and pressing myself as tightly as I could against the wall. The space was narrow, barely wide enough for me to fit. My knees scraped against the wooden surface as I squeezed into the corner. The sharp smell of old parchment and ink filled my senses as I huddled into the small space, my heart hammering in my chest so loudly I feared it might give me away.
The room was quiet, too quiet, and the sound of the door creaking open sent a chill down my spine. I held my breath, the weight of the situation crashing down on me. If I were caught, there would be no explaining my presence here. I would be branded a spy—or worse.
The Watcher's shadow grew larger as he stepped further into the room. I could hear the soft shuffle of his boots on the stone floor, the rustle of his robes as he moved. He wasn't rushing, he was taking his time—moving with an eerie calmness that only made the tension in my body grow tighter.
I clenched my fists, every muscle in my body tensing as I fought to remain perfectly still. But the tight space made it hard to breathe, and my arm brushed against the edge of the desk as I tried to shift my weight.
*Thump.*
The sound was faint but unmistakable. My elbow had knocked against a stack of scrolls on the desk, sending one of them rolling off the edge and onto the floor with a soft, dull thud.
My blood turned to ice.
The room seemed to freeze. I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears as I cursed myself silently, panic tightening around my throat. My breath caught in my chest as I pressed my back harder against the wall, as if I could make myself disappear. The footsteps that had been slow and deliberate stopped abruptly.
The Watcher had heard it.
I swallowed hard, my body stiffening in fear. Every inch of my skin prickled as I heard him move again, this time with purpose. His steps were heavier, more certain, as though he had caught a scent and was closing in on his prey.
I dared not move a muscle. My mind raced. What would I do if he found me? What could I possibly say to explain why I was crouched behind his desk, clearly snooping where I didn't belong?
The footsteps stopped. I could see the outline of his shadow, dark and looming, stretching across the floor and stopping just a few feet from where I was hiding. The silence that followed was suffocating. My lungs burned from holding my breath too long, but I couldn't risk even the smallest gasp of air.
For a few agonizing seconds, there was nothing. Just the sound of my own heartbeat drumming in my ears and the heavy stillness of the room. Then, slowly, the Watcher moved again, his shadow shifting away from me as he began to walk toward the center of the room. He hadn't spotted me yet.
But I wasn't safe. Not yet.
I dared to steal a glance around the corner of the desk, and there he was. The Watcher stood in the middle of the chamber, his back to me, his tall frame cloaked in dark, flowing robes. He was motionless for a moment, then he slowly turned his head, as if sensing something out of place, but not entirely sure what.
I bit down on my lip to keep from making a sound, every muscle in my body trembling with the effort to remain hidden. He walked over to the shelves lining the walls, his movements precise and calculated, like a predator circling its prey. He reached up to one of the scrolls, his fingers brushing lightly over the parchment as though he was lost in thought.
The tension in the room was unbearable. I watched, waiting, hoping he would simply retrieve what he came for and leave. But as he lingered, it became clear that he wasn't just here to collect something. He was searching—perhaps for something he suspected was amiss. My heart sank further into the pit of my stomach.
The scroll I had knocked over lay on the floor, just out of his view. One wrong step and he would see it. One wrong move, and this whole operation would be over.
I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to think, trying to plan what I could do if he found me. My body was trembling with fear, and I fought to control the adrenaline surging through my veins. Every second stretched into an eternity, my mind spinning with possibilities—none of them good.
And then, just when I thought I might be caught, there was a sound from the hallway outside. Footsteps. Not his. Someone else was approaching the chamber. The Watcher turned sharply toward the door, his attention momentarily drawn away from me.
I breathed a silent sigh of relief, my pulse still racing as I took the opportunity to inch deeper into the shadows, hoping to make myself as invisible as possible.
The door creaked open, and another figure entered the room. I could see only part of them from my hiding spot—a tall woman in dark robes, her face partially concealed by the hood she wore. She stepped in with a grace that was almost unsettling, her movements smooth and fluid.
"Watcher," she said, her voice low and commanding. "We must proceed. The Queen has summoned you."
The Watcher straightened, his demeanor shifting as he acknowledged the woman's presence. "Yes, of course. I was just preparing."
The woman glanced around the room briefly, her gaze passing over the shelves and desk before settling on the Watcher once more. "There is no time for delay. We cannot afford any mistakes."
Her words sent a chill down my spine. There was something ominous in her tone, something that hinted at the very darkness I had come here to uncover. This was no ordinary meeting. They were planning something—something dangerous, something that would affect the entire kingdom.
I could feel the weight of their words pressing down on me, the tension in the room thickening as the two figures exchanged a brief look of understanding. The Watcher nodded once and then turned to follow the woman out of the room, his dark robes sweeping across the floor as they exited.
The door closed softly behind them, and just like that, the room was empty once more.
I exhaled a long, shaky breath, my heart still pounding in my chest. My limbs felt weak, and for a moment, I stayed crouched behind the desk, too terrified to move. But I couldn't stay here. Not if I wanted to avoid being found.
Carefully, I stood up from my hiding place, glancing around the room to make sure I was truly alone. My legs wobbled beneath me as I stepped out from behind the desk, my hands trembling slightly as I moved back toward the shelves.
I needed to get out of here, but I also needed answers. What were they planning? What secrets were hidden in this chamber?
But my time was running out. I had barely escaped being caught once, and I couldn't risk it happening again.
I glanced at the scrolls, at the strange objects that lined the shelves, and then, my eyes fell on a book—an old, leather-bound tome that seemed out of place among the other documents. Its spine was cracked with age, and it looked as though it hadn't been touched in years. Something about it drew me in, and before I could stop myself, I reached for it.
As I pulled the book from the shelf, my hands trembling with anticipation, I knew I was close to discovering something—something that could change everything.