Since our window faced the back, I left the room at once and stepped into the corridor, then leaned out through the nearest window to see what was going on. A guard was standing in the rain outside, one hand holding the reins of a horse while the other kept a torch raised at shoulder height. The light from the flame cut through the drizzle in short, wavering streaks, and the man's posture made it clear he was not here for anything casual.
Shit. That looked serious.
I headed back into the room and sat down while reaching for my boots.
"What is it?" Ken asked.
"I don't know," I said, pulling my school uniform straight and getting my boots on. "We'll see."
Maybe the Queen had finally decided I had outlived my usefulness and ordered someone to hang me. That thought crossed my mind for a second, but if that had been the case, they would have come up to the room, dragged me out, and handled it directly. This felt different. Important, maybe.
