The corridors of the palace had a strange way of swallowing sound. Sophie discovered that when she padded softly behind Eira one evening, the only noise was the faint sweep of her gown over the marble floor. Every corner seemed to hold its breath, every torch flame leaning forward as if listening.
They were supposed to be in Sophie's chambers. At least, that was what the guards stationed at her doors believed. Eira had distracted them with a tray of wine and a remark about how the queen wished for privacy to bathe. By the time the guards turned their eyes away, Sophie had already slipped into the service passage with her handmaiden.
"This is reckless," Sophie whispered as they hurried along a narrow corridor that smelled faintly of damp stone and candle wax.
Eira glanced back, her torchlight catching the sharp angle of her cheekbones. "Reckless is the only way truth survives here. If His Majesty suspects what we're doing…" She didn't finish the thought. She didn't have to. Sophie knew the consequences would not be gentle.
Still, her curiosity pushed harder than fear. "You said last night that some of the handmaidens still whisper about Seraphina. That she disappeared too suddenly."
"She did." Eira's voice dropped lower. "One evening she was here, the next, gone. They told us she was ill, then… that she had been sent away for her health. But no one saw her leave. And the king… he forbade her name to be spoken aloud again. As if she had been erased."
Sophie hugged her arms. "That's not natural. Not for a queen."
They turned into a stairwell that spiraled downward, away from the warmth of the upper halls. The deeper they went, the colder it became. Sophie's breath puffed visibly in the air, and the torch sputtered with each draft.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"The old library," Eira said. "Few go there now. Too many records were burned during the last purge, but some things were hidden. Some things cannot be so easily destroyed."
Sophie's pulse quickened. She wasn't sure if it was excitement or fear. The idea of secret records, of traces of Seraphina's past, felt like stepping closer to the heart of the mystery that bound her to this strange world.
The library revealed itself at the bottom of the stairwell—an iron-banded door carved with ancient runes Sophie couldn't decipher. Eira pressed her shoulder against it until the hinges groaned, and together they slipped inside.
The air was heavy with dust, the scent of old parchment sharp and dry. Bookshelves stretched into darkness, their contents sagging under years of neglect. Cobwebs clung to forgotten tomes, and on a cracked table near the center lay scrolls that looked as if they would crumble at a touch.
Eira set the torch in a holder. "Quickly. We cannot stay long."
Sophie moved carefully among the shelves, her fingers brushing across spines etched with gilded letters. Most were histories—chronicles of battles, laws, decrees of past kings. But now and then she glimpsed a personal seal, a diary or a set of letters.
It was Eira who gasped first. She had tugged free a bundle of scrolls tied with faded silk. "Here," she whispered. "These are marked with Seraphina's crest."
Sophie's heart leapt as she bent beside her. Together they unrolled the parchment. The handwriting was elegant but hurried, as though the queen had written in secret.
"They watch me even in my chambers. I cannot trust the council. Draven's eyes linger too long, his words coil like snakes. And Alexander… he is not the same. I fear his silence more than his wrath. Something moves beneath these walls, a power I cannot name."
Sophie's skin prickled. She read the words again, her mind racing. "She was afraid. Not just of Draven, but of Alexander too."
Eira shook her head fiercely. "No—she loved him. Everyone knew it. But the court twisted everything. If she feared him, it was because she knew more than she let on."
They opened another scroll. This one was shorter, almost frantic in its scrawl.
"If I vanish, it will not be by choice. Remember this: the truth lies beneath the east wing, where stone meets water. The answers are hidden there."
Sophie stared at the words until they blurred. "The east wing…"
Before Eira could reply, footsteps echoed faintly down the stairwell. Both women froze.
"Someone's coming," Sophie hissed.
Eira snatched up the scrolls and shoved them back onto the shelf, burying them under a stack of blank parchment. She grabbed Sophie's hand, pulling her into the shadows behind a towering bookcase.
The door creaked open. Torchlight spilled into the room, accompanied by the shuffle of boots. Two voices muttered to each other.
"…said she was in her chambers."
"Orders are orders. The king wants every corridor checked. No one slips past tonight."
Sophie pressed her back against the cold stone, her heart pounding loud enough she was sure they could hear it. Eira squeezed her hand, her own breath tight and controlled.
The guards prowled through the library, their torchlight slicing across the rows of shelves. One paused not far from their hiding place, squinting into the gloom.
Sophie fought the urge to move, to breathe.
Finally, the other guard called, "Nothing here. Let's keep moving."
The footsteps retreated, the door groaning shut once more.
Only then did Sophie dare exhale. Her knees felt weak. "That was too close."
Eira pulled her deeper into the shadows, whispering urgently. "We cannot risk this again tonight. But now we know—the east wing. Whatever Seraphina meant, that is where we must search next."
Sophie nodded, her mind spinning. The east wing. Stone meeting water. What had Seraphina discovered? And how had it led to her disappearance?
As they slipped back through the stairwell and into the service passages, Sophie felt the palace closing in around her, its walls no longer just stone but secrets pressing on all sides.
For the first time, she wondered if she truly wanted the truth—or if finding it would undo her completely.