You had just stepped out of the castle, your conversation with Pure Vanilla Cookie still echoing in your mind. Pleasantries exchanged. Tea drunk. Nothing out of the ordinary.

And yet.

As you walked down the marble steps, a prickle ran down your spine. The air grew still, the birdsong distant. You stopped, glancing over your shoulder.

The courtyard was empty. Just a few guards patrolling the walls, a baker sweeping crumbs from a bench. Nothing unusual.

You shook your head, blaming the summer heat. But the feeling didn't leave.

<Narrator> You continued on, dismissing it as nothing. The day stretched ahead, full of mundane errands.