I clapped a hand over my mouth, choking down the gasp threatening to escape. My body stiffened as I debated whether to linger and keep listening or retreat quietly to my chamber and pretend none of this ever happened.

“So, what are you planning to do with Anselmo?” Fosco asked, changing the subject.

Gosto let out a sigh. “I can’t do anything… not yet.”

Just then, the sharp crash of something shattering echoed from the far end of the corridor. Maybe it was a clumsy servant ...