The afternoon brought the most desperate move of Sera's "Invisibility Tour."
Damon had effectively sealed off the Thorne Wing and the servants' passages. He was "mapping" the palace with a level of detail that would have made a cartographer weep. Sera was cornered in the Hanging Gardens, her stolen maid's outfit now torn and dusty.
She looked up at the stone wall of the East Wing. Forty feet up was the balcony of Vera's private study.
"Vera said the vines are Stellar-Oak," Sera whispered to herself, her eyes wide. "They can hold the weight of a drake. They can definitely hold the weight of a desperate noblewoman."
She grabbed the thick, flowering vines and began to climb. It was a disaster from the start. Sera Thorne was built for ballrooms and tea-rooms, not for vertical infiltration. Her silk skirt—hidden beneath the apron—was a constant burden.
"Higher... just a little higher..." she wheezed, her fingers cramping.
