The corridor continued to stretch before me, silent except for the soft padding of my feet against the cold stone floor and the gentle purring of the cats nestled in my arms. For a while, it had become harder to distinguish between night and day inside the tower. It had grown progressively darker, as if the tower was consuming the light, even though it was bright outside.
Xylara shifted in my hold, pressing her small, warm body closer to my chest, while Namarie flicked her tail impatiently, clearly unamused by the way I was carrying her, her tiny paws clutching onto my sleeve as if afraid I would set her down.
As I reached my bedchamber door, I nudged it open with my shoulder, stepping inside. The familiar scent of lavender and aged parchment filled the air, mingling with the faint traces of rain that drifted in from the slightly open window. A breeze stirred the curtains, making them ripple like ghostly figures against the darkened backdrop of the room.
