Lara moved through the long, green-marble corridor of the Emerald Palace barefoot, sweat clinging to her brow. She had returned from training late—again—and the wine she'd stolen from the northern cellar was still burning in her stomach. Her footsteps were quiet, but her pulse was not.
She wasn't supposed to be here.
A muffled 'sound' caught her ear. At first, it was low—barely audible over the creak of palace wood and the whisper of night wind. But then—another one. A gasp, drawn out like silk over skin. A moan, unmistakable.
Her hand froze on the corner pillar.
'No....again?'
Her mother's chambers.
She wasn't naive. She knew Isabella entertained. The maids gossiped about the late-night visits. Lara had even seen the guards carry out the bodies before dawn—some broken, some still breathing, all used. But hearing it was different.
It was happening. Right now.
And worse—she couldn't look away.
The doors were slightly ajar. Not locked. Not sealed. Almost… inviting.
