Medea never really went back to her room. The servant's passageway, or the "Labyrinth" to anyone who had ever actually tried finding their way through it, was where she spent most of her nights. On stormy nights like these the drafts could get so strong they would knock out the torches, turning the echoing passageways into the shadowy places from nightmares and ghost stories. Needless to say, she was the only one adventuring through the stone maze.
She slipped the rough map out from under her blouse and followed it until she came to an area just above the courtier's quarters. She pressed herself down against the freezing floor and listened through to the people below. Their late-night flight hadn't woken anyone up, and those that had already been up (Lord Fenrick of Greenhill was an insomniac) didn't seem to have noticed.
At last she reached the area above Redern's room and held her breath to hear exactly what he was doing. She heard whispers that slowly wafted up through the wood ceiling but were caught by the stone in between the floors. Medea took a deep breath and ever so carefully lifted the slate of stone and slipped down into the crawlspace above his rooms. The rotting wood took her weight with a loud groan, but a crash of thunder hid the noise. She gingerly bent down again, making sure that she could spring back up if the wood began to fall in. She'd learned her lesson when her ceiling above the servant's quarters collapsed under her weight.
"What do you think? The bitch refused." He growled, a sound that seemed almost comical in his high falsetto. It didn't take much thinking to figure out who he was talking about and what she had refused.
She rolled her eyes as he and his companion, a woman approximately five and half feet tall with north-eastern origin based on her voice, continued with their conversation, which ended in the door to his bedchamber slamming shut. Whether or not she had followed him in didn't matter to Medea in the slightest as she made her way back through the labyrinth.
The maze twisted and turned until she finally found the door near the north tower.
She pressed herself against the wooden door and tapped her fingers quietly against the door, a sound only someone who was listening for it could hear.
The doorknob twisted and the door swung open too fast for her to move out of the way. She tumbled forward into the arms of the one person she had been hoping to see.
"Why, hello Guardsman Merric!" she whispered.