Thirty minutes later, we were gliding through the dusky streets in a sleek limousine, en route to the castle. Gosto sat upright beside me, his eyes flicking cautiously across the darkened windows, scanning the world outside with a soldier’s vigilance.

"Are you expecting trouble?" I asked, trying to mask the tremor in my voice with a wry smile.

"You can never be too careful," he replied calmly, and a chill raced down my spine.

Something about the air felt wrong off. My instincts screamed ...