LIRO || completed

• 15.2 •

The hallways of the palace were dimly lit, and despite that, golden accents placed along the walls shimmered. Music and chatter from the grand room on the other side was a small victory. No one had picked apart their plan yet; no one had discovered them.

Her movements were smooth and rehearsed - to anyone else, Liro would look like she knew exactly where she was going. It was naive, to hope that an assured posture could possibly conceal the racing of her heart.

Liro had studied the layout of the palace on their journey here, and if she closed her eyes, it was as if she could see the carefully drawn lines of the plans. The most difficult part of her route would be making it through the Portrait Hall, but it was unavoidable.

Every royal who had ever drawn breath had a portrait painted, encased in gold and hung for all to see. Thieves had tried to steal them before; just one could fetch a hefty price, but only inside the kingdom. Liro could pick the King and Queen out of a crowd - nothing about the others was remarkable.

Liro reached the hallway, peering down the length of it. It was just as she had predicted; nearly all of the huntsmen and guards were positioned near the ballroom. Save for two lonely guards - one positioned at each end - the hallway was unobstructed. 

Liro took a breath, clenching her hand into a fist and hiding it beneath the silk of her dress, took a few steps forward. The guards did not look her way. Her shoulders relaxed, and she forced herself to stand taller as she passed the first guard.

And nearly lost her head to the spear suddenly pressed against her throat.

"No one but the royal family is permitted beyond this point," the guard said, his voice muffled through the mouthpiece of his armour. 

Liro schooled her face, making her voice softer, more innocent. "Oh! I'm terribly sorry. I just - I saw Lord Atlor come this way?"

The guard shifted uncomfortably. 

Their plan was moving smoothly. Kier had taken the Lord this way, and now Liro was to use that to his advantage. The guards certainly knew that Lord Atlor was not a member of the royal family, and the man who had been with him had more in common with the peasants then a Lord.

"He did, yes ma'am." The guard's voice sounded strained.

"Well then this won't take a moment," Liro said, infusing her voice with false chipper. "I've just been sent to give the Lord a message. I believe it's most urgent."

She would have bet money that the guard was sweating profusely. He did not look like he was well versed in conversation, let alone telling pushy young ladies that they could not deliver important messages.

The guard hissed through his armour. "Be quick."

Liro beamed. "Thank you!"

As she moved down the hallway, her eyes scanned the walls. It was an awfully long walk to the other end, and hundreds of portraits dotted the walls. Some larger, some smaller, others in colour and certain ones painted in monochrome. She could see the evolution of the royal line spelling out before her with ease. It was fascinating.

Her eyes caught on a particular portrait, nearly stopping to study it more closely. Dark hair, perfectly styled. Her heart nearly beat up into her throat. She scrambled to read the name inscribed beneath before she passed him entirely. 

Prince Julian.

Liro felt heat rise to her face, and she found as if it was suddenly difficult to breath, let along walk steadily. Their plan had been going too well. And now it would all unravel like a spool of thread, for the simple reason that she had wanted to not be idle. She had wanted to move and study the room.