The following morning, the castle was alive with movement. Servants bustled through the corridors, their hurried footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The faint scent of roasted meats and freshly baked bread wafted through the air as preparations for the Emperor's birthday banquet reached their peak.
I rose from bed, stretching the soreness out of my limbs. The breakthrough from the night before was still fresh in my mind, fueling me with a sense of determination. I dressed quickly, fastening a simple but presentable tunic before stepping into the corridor.
Natasha was waiting outside my door, as poised as ever. Her keen eyes scanned me briefly, no doubt noticing the slight fatigue lingering from my late-night training. "Good morning, young master," she said, her tone light but observant.
"Morning, Natasha," I replied, rubbing the back of my neck.
"Did you sleep well?" she asked, her words carefully measured.
