Sorceress of the Second Sphere

22. Paranoia - Chrys

As her apologies continued, she made for the exit at the earliest opportunity. Her cheeks were red and flushed as Chrys didn't recognise the woman who made that insane outburst at a man who had obviously taken a shine to her.

No apology felt enough as she walked briskly away from the kitchens. Chrys had drastically escalated a non-existent situation for no reason and as she tried to establish why she had reacted in such a manner, thoughts of her aching stomach which had encouraged her to venture to the kitchen had quickly dispersed.

She was being watched, Chrys was certain of it.

Ever since her warning to Sir Searmundr, the walls appeared to have eyes. Looks seem to linger on her much longer than usual and faces that were unfamiliar to her seem to becoming more frequent.

She was the Nightengale, it was her role to know everything about everyone, yet she recently found herself often at a disadvantage when identifying people.

At the end of the corridor, a couple of servants walked underneath the arch, heading in her direction. Two young men, not much older than she was, were laughing as each of them carried fabric toward some unknown destination within the castle. They noticed the apprehensive young woman trying to avoid their gaze, which encouraged them to stare at her more intently.

Chrys could feel her heart leaping from her chest. As she edged closer to them, she could feel her hands becoming clammy and her breathing became more erratic.

What if they were under Sir Searmundr's charge? There was no one around to protect her, and the corridor appeared to go into the distance forever. With each step forward and the squelching echo of their leather shoes, Chrys felt like the corridor was continuing to extend faster than her steps could take her.

Watching as one delved his hand into his pocket, rummaging around deep inside it, Chrys could feel her time on this earth shorten. Thoughts that she would be left on the cold hard surface, her throat slit, cut wide open while she gurgled in a pool of her own blood, infested her mind like rats on a carcass.

As quickly as the fear of death raged around in her head, it disappeared in an instant. What did she have to fear?

Rubbing her arm, remembering the cuts that reminded her of the deaths that she was responsible for, a part of her felt like she deserved to be with them. The numbness washed over her like a wave of darkness and all Chrys wanted to do to embrace it for herself.

With the two men only steps away from her, their eyes fixated on what felt like her walking corpse, Chrys embraced the inevitable, to join the lost souls that would be waiting to torment her for eternity. However, as the man reached out of his pocket, all that remained in his hand was another piece of silver fabric.

The two men strode on, looking at the young woman confused. She hadn't even noticed that she was huddled on the floor, embracing the cold stone wall awaiting her death, and as she looked up towards them, they laughed uncontrollably at her somewhat bizarre behaviour.

Chrys didn't know whether to feel embarrassed or concerned. Her initial thoughts as she slowly picked herself off the floor were of the stupidity of her actions, but it quickly came to alarm as her thoughts drifted to how close she could have been to being murdered in a hallway by an agent of Sir Searmundr.

Looking down the corridor, listening to the estranged echo of the two servants as they continued to laugh in the distance, Chrys' thoughts turned to the man that she now considered her nemesis.

She was foolish, reacting to him the way she did, allowing her emotion to take over her words and threaten a man who was not only a noble but also a Lionguard, one of the most feared soldiers in Isovine.