The palace corridors were silent, but not empty. Candlelight flickered along the marble floors, throwing shadows that seemed to twist and linger, alive in ways I couldn't explain. Every step I took echoed, yet something made the silence feel heavy — as if unseen eyes were watching.
I paused, heart ticking faster than the quiet demanded. A rumor had floated through the staff earlier: "He's back in the city… and he notices everything." I didn't know who "he" was exactly, but the chill that ran down my spine suggested it wasn't a story to dismiss.
A shadow shifted at the far end of the hall. My breath caught, though I told myself it was nothing. Just a servant, maybe. Just a trick of the candlelight.
And yet, I felt it. A presence. Watching. Waiting.
I moved on, careful not to look directly, but my mind couldn't let it go. Every whispered rumor about him — the way he commanded rooms without speaking, the way people bent without realizing why — now felt real. The tension wrapped around me like a silk cord: invisible, binding, intoxicating.
I told myself to focus on my duties. Sweep the hall. Check the ledgers. Anything to keep from imagining what those eyes might look like. And yet, even as I worked, I sensed him in the spaces between my thoughts. Not touching. Not speaking. Just… there.
And when the distant echo of footsteps faded, I realized my pulse hadn't slowed. Whoever he was, he had already found a way into my world — unseen, yet unforgettable.