The corridor was quiet - eerily so - as Elara stepped softly past the scullery door and down the narrow servants’ hall that wound beneath the palace kitchens. The stone floor was cold under her thin shoes, and the torchlight flickered dimly along the low, vaulted ceiling. She kept her pace steady, her breathing even, though her pulse thudded wildly beneath her ribs.

  She had studied the map Aldric had given her late into the night, tracing the lines of hallways she knew by heart, looking for any subtle inconsistencies. There, tucked between two pantry storage rooms, was a blank space where no current entry should be. A void in the layout; out of place, as though someone had tried to erase it from memory.

  Now she was walking toward that forgotten space.

  She had timed her search well. The kitchen staff had all retired for the afternoon rest, and the only person who might stumble across her was Old Thom, the store-room keeper, who was hard of hearing and never left his chair unless the wine cellars were involved. Still, every creak of the floor made her flinch.

  When she reached the designated corner - where the stone wall angled awkwardly and a heavy shelf of unused jars leaned against the wall - she paused. The air here was colder, the damp clinging to the stone and creeping up her arms. Something about this place felt... off. Forgotten.

  She ran her fingers along the edge of the wall, just above the shelf. Dust coated the stone thickly, and behind it, she felt something. An indentation, shallow but deliberate. Her hand trembled as she pressed against it. Nothing happened at first. But then, with a soft click, the shelf shifted forward by an inch.

  Heart in her throat, Elara gripped the wooden frame and pulled.

  With a low groan, the entire shelf rolled aside, revealing a narrow doorway carved into the stone wall. There was no door, no hinges - just an arched passage swallowed by darkness. The air that drifted from within was cold and stale, as though it hadn’t been disturbed in centuries.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Elara stepped back, hand over her mouth. She had found it.

  She should have been relieved. Instead, fear laced through her excitement like poison. This was no longer a tale whispered between servants. The hidden passage was real. And now, so was the risk.

  Still, she couldn’t turn back.

  She stepped forward again, ducking her head beneath the archway and slipping into the tunnel. It was narrow, the ceiling low, the walls damp and lined with old mortar. The only light came from the crack of the torch she’d borrowed from the hallway. Her breath sounded loud in the confined space, and every drip of unseen water made her nerves tighten.

  The tunnel sloped downward slightly, twisting left and then right, as though intentionally disorienting. More than once, she felt the creeping thought: What if this doesn’t lead anywhere? What if you get lost? But just as she began to doubt herself, the passage widened.

  Ahead, a staircase carved from the stone led deeper underground.

  She didn’t descend. Not yet.

  Instead, she turned back, retracing her steps quickly, marking the twists in her mind. When she emerged into the storage corridor once more and rolled the shelf back into place, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

  She had done it. She had found the door.

  Now, she had to tell Aldric.

  The next evening, the garden was cloaked in shadows, the moonlight veiled behind drifting clouds. Elara waited beneath the oak tree, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. For once, she wasn’t early. Her nerves had made her linger too long in the passage, too long planning her words.

  When Aldric arrived, he looked more tired than she had ever seen him.

  “Elara,” he said breathlessly as he stepped into the clearing. “Tell me you’re all right.”

  She nodded quickly, her hands trembling as she reached for his. “I found it, Aldric. I found the passage.”

  His eyes widened, all exhaustion momentarily wiped away. “Where?”

  “Near the old storage hallway by the scullery,” she said, her voice hushed. “It was hidden behind a shelf. There’s a corridor, and a staircase leading down. I didn’t go far - I didn’t want to lose my way - but it’s real. Just like the old stories said.”

  Aldric pulled her into a fierce embrace, and for a moment, the weight of everything seemed to lift. “You’re incredible,” he murmured. “I can’t believe you found it.”

  Elara rested her forehead against his chest. “I don’t know where it leads. But it’s a start.”

  “We’ll map it,” he said firmly. “Together. We’ll figure out where it goes, how to use it, how to get out. If there’s a path out of the palace, we’ll find it. And then we’ll make our move.”

  She nodded against him, her chest tightening with a strange mix of fear and exhilaration.

  But as they stood there, neither of them noticed the faint rustle of fabric beyond the hedges.

  Or the glint of light catching a brooch just beyond the garden wall.