Chapter 6: Father’s Study
...Then, to his surprise, a sigh echoed below.
"It's the useless prince again," one of the guards muttered.
Oliver's eyes widened slightly.
Another guard chuckled. "Figures. He's probably just sneaking around to find a place to sleep. Let him be."
Oliver nearly laughed. His old habits had unwittingly saved him. These guards were so used to his antics that they dismissed his presence entirely.
Shaking his head, Oliver continued crawling forward.
Let them think he was useless. As long as it worked for his good, he did not care.
The vent's metal grating let out a faint creak as Oliver slowly pushed it open. A rush of cooler air met him, carrying the scent of parchment, aged leather, and the faint lingering musk of his father's cologne.
He lowered himself carefully, his bare feet landing soundlessly onto the thick, woven carpet. The soft texture beneath him was such a stark contrast to the cold, hard floors he had grown accustomed to in his past life that he had to pause for a second.