I ran through the castle hallways with my heart pounding against my ribs like a war drum. Each beat reminded me of the call I had received minutes before: your grandfather might not survive the night. The air burned in my lungs, as if I couldn't breathe enough, as if anguish was strangling me from within.
The moon was barely climbing the sky, pouring its pale light through the large windows and tinting the marble walls with a ghostly glow. My footsteps echoed on the floor, muffled yet deafening to me, as if the entire castle could hear my desperation.
I rushed into my room and closed the door with a slight push, resisting the impulse to turn the key. The metallic click would be too risky. My breathing was broken, rapid, shallow, and my hands trembled violently as I pulled the suitcase hidden in the closet.
