"What are you doing here?" I growled, gripping the servant's shoulder tighter as he tried to squirm away. The corridor was empty except for us, moonlight streaming through the tall windows casting long shadows across the marble floor.
Samuel—I'd heard someone call him that earlier—avoided my gaze, his eyes darting to the side as if searching for escape. His palace livery was immaculate, but something about him felt off. He didn't carry himself like the other servants.
"I-I'm just doing my duties, Your Grace," he stammered, a slight tremor in his voice. "The King requested additional staff for tonight's celebration."
I leaned closer, my voice dropping dangerously low. "Try again. You've been lurking in restricted areas all evening."
Before he could respond, footsteps echoed down the corridor. Sir Kaelen Drake approached with purposeful strides, his formal attire slightly disheveled.
