Searching
Finding clues about the flame was never going to be a walk in the park, I had realised that from the moment I arrived in this hell hold of a palace. But that doesn't make my searching any less tedious.
Meticulously working my way through draws, memorising the positioning of each scrap of paper, ornament and box, blinking the dust that arises from likely centuries of disuse out of my eyes, and then putting everything back, as if I was never there in the first place is a rather boring job to say the least. Not to mention every dust bunny that rolls its way out from under the bed, dancing around the room in the heat of my flurried searching and frantic breathing, is another strike to my name: one more case that can be held against me.
In the notion of this, I attempt to push my worrying aside momentarily, forcing myself to concentrate at the task at hand and not my increasingly likely event of impending doom.