Karoline cracked open the door to her bedchamber, poking her head out. The coast was clear. She shut her door again before slipping silently down the hallway. Once she was away from the nearby servants’ rooms, she worried less about being quiet, almost skipping down the deserted corridors. It was late, past midnight, and she almost felt like she had the castle to herself. That was of course not the case, and she slid to a halt at one of the main halls, checking to make sure she would not be caught out. Luck was on her side tonight it seemed.
The kitchen was empty when she entered, though the coals still glimmered happily in the hearth. Dropping the shawl she’d brought with her, she grabbed a small basket and hurried around the kitchen, grabbing a bit of bread and cheese and a bottle and other bits and bobs. She made quick work of it, still familiar with where everything was kept. But suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. Someone was coming. “Chiermerde!” she hissed, looking around frantically. She dropped a rag over the top of her basket and hurried back to grab her shawl, managing to knock over a stool on her way. “Gopfertammi!” she muttered, rubbing her shin. Well, now she was caught. She could only hope it wasn’t the old ornery cook and someone more merciful to wild pursuits.