Raven pressed her back against the corridor wall, counting her heartbeats to measure time. One, two, three... Leo's distraction must have worked; the west corridor guard had abandoned his post. The absence left a conspicuous emptiness in the otherwise meticulously staffed mansion.
She glided forward on silent feet, moving in the blind spots between lanterns. Her half-red, half-white hair tucked securely beneath a dark cap. The corridor smelled of beeswax polish and amber resin – Valerio's signature scent that permeated everything he owned.
Voices echoed from distant rooms – the festival continuing in harmony while she dismantled its foundation. Raven paused at an ornate door, running her fingers along the polished wood frame. Valerio's private office, according to the architectural plans she'd memorized. The lock was substantial – a complicated mechanism that would take precious minutes to pick.
Time she didn't have.
