Nights at the Devano Mansion were typically steeped in silence, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of an antique clock and the muffled footfalls of sentries patrolling the perimeter. Yet tonight, within the walls of the opulent nursery, a "covert mission" was underway.
Lucifer, the little prince who had recently mastered high-speed crawling, had stirred from his slumber. Instead of wailing for a bottle, he fixed the gilded bars of his crib with a calculating gaze. With a nimble dexterity that would have baffled any onlooker, he managed to squeeze through a slightly loosened gap in the safety railing—the result of his tiny, restless fingers' constant tinkering.
Thud.
His small feet met the plush carpet. With a silent giggle, Lucifer began his trek out of the room, heading into the dimly lit corridor.
