The maid's footsteps pounded against the stone floors of Exonory Castle, echoing wildly through the grand corridors.
Her breath came in sharp bursts as she darted beneath tall, arched windows glowing with golden morning light. She passed rows of silver-gilded candelabras, their flames flickering in her rush, and stone walls lined with portraits—not of elves, but of past human kings, heroes, and warriors that shaped Exonory's proud legacy.
Among them hung one peculiar painting—an oil portrait of a young elf girl in silver-white robes, resting among human royalty. She didn't belong to their bloodline… and yet her frame hung there, untouched, as if time had waited for her return.
As the maid ran past, it was as if that girl's painted eyes followed her.
She skidded to a halt at the guard post, nearly crashing into a startled sentry.
"T-The girl—" she gasped. "The elf girl who was brought in... she's awake!"
