The evening sun dipped below the jagged peaks of the demon realm, casting long, bloody shadows across the stone floor of the complex. Lena stood in the center of the servent wing, adjusting her white gloves. Her back ached from standing at attention all day, but her work was only just beginning. She picked up a silver tray. It was empty, a perfect excuse to be out in the halls after hours.
"I am just checking the kitchen supplies," she told the guard at the end of the hall.
The guard grunted. He didn't even look at her face.
Lena moved with a quick, silent pace. She didn't go toward the kitchens.
Instead, she turned into the narrow servant corridors that ran like veins behind the main rooms. These were the paths the high-born princes never saw. She pulled a small piece of charcoal from her pocket and made a tiny mark on the wall. She was mapping the exits.
She noted every guard rotation she had seen. She counted the steps between the main hall and the hidden back stairs.
