As Duke Ephraim pushed the door open and slipped inside, I waited a heartbeat, then moved quickly to catch the edge of the door, holding it just barely ajar so I could peep through and watch what he was doing. My plain, simple dress marked me clearly as nothing more than a servant — a slave, even — and I hoped that alone would be enough to hide my true identity if he turned around.
But as I shifted to get a better view, my foot struck the leg of a small wooden table standing beside the wall. It scraped loudly against the stone floor, echoing through the quiet corridor.
I froze, heart leaping into my throat.
Ephraim paused inside the room. He turned his head sharply toward the sound, then stepped back out into the passage, his eyes scanning the shadows.
"Maid," he called out, his voice low, firm, and carrying authority. "Come out. Do not try to hide, and do not think of running."
