I follow closely on Sammael’s heels, he seems in a hurry to get where we are going but spares me no kindness in his pace.
Trying my hardest not to fall behind through unfamiliar corridors dimly lit by low flame candles, cold stone walls that all look exactly the same to me and I am perplexed how he can even know his way in this warren of corridors.
After what feels like an age of weaving we finally come through a passage to a part of the palace that I know well. My rooms are up the sweeping staircase to our right so so close. He turns to me giving me a knowing look and firmly clasps my had pulling me to his side. Message received.
He steps off toward the left taking us along a grand corridor, each side framed with pewter flame lights spaced in between portraits of the generals of Hel
