The lucky Storyteller

As soon as I entered the room and they closed the door behind me, I peeped through the keyhole. Two soldiers and an army of servants were stationed at the other heroes' doors. Now that Bezmal's priests were gone, the buzzing in my ears had stopped and I could understand what they were saying again… as much as I could understand from behind a door.

A maid walked timidly towards my door, but a soldier stopped her and shook his head.

"We have orders not to open that door, no matter what it is, no matter what we hear, until tomorrow morning."

The maid's eyes widened, but she understood and stepped back.

The acting of those two made me even more suspicious of everyone. Apparently, the rule didn't apply to the other heroes, as a bunch of servants were entering their rooms with trays of food and drink.

"Let's not open the door no matter what, no matter what we hear," I repeated to myself. "So, they expect something bad to happen to me."

I took a deep breath and looked into my room. It wasn't lit by crystals, but by a lot of candles. It was huge, with luxurious old furniture, a four-poster bed like I'd only seen in prestigious magazines, a table with two chairs, a bunch of pots of flowers in very bright colors that immediately made me think of... poison. Even the air had a slightly sweet, languid smell. I almost wanted to throw myself into that bed and fall asleep. Almost...

I took a few cautious steps around the room. Was I paranoid? It didn't matter. Better paranoid than sorry later.

I went to the window and realized that it was another dead end for a possible escape. I could only see a rocky valley beneath, but the window was bolted shut and I couldn't open it at all. Annoyed, I wanted to open the door to the enormous closet, but a strange, rattling sound stopped me. I held it closed and whispered,

"Is anyone in there?"

I tapped lightly on the wood and the sounds coming from inside sent shivers down my spine. There were snakes there. Big snakes. And with the amount of noise they made and the way the closet vibrated... it was enough to give me a panic attack. Unfortunately, that powder's effect was weakening. I blocked the closet door with a chair, then stood still in the middle of the room. My stomach was churning and I wanted to throw up, but the mere thought of opening the bathroom door turned my legs to jelly. When I finally got my courage back, I slowly approached the bathroom door and listened. There was nothing, but I blocked it with the other chair anyway.

I then turned my attention to the four-poster bed and pulled back the covers. Surprisingly, there was nothing under the bed or under the pillows... but I knew what to look for.

I remembered a story I had read in an old newspaper about the Borgia family and a bed that had belonged to the infamous Cesare Borgia, I believe. The bed had been purchased at auction by a man who liked antiques and artifacts of famous historical figures. The buyer had wanted to impress his guests, but mysteriously, anyone who slept in the room where the bed was located was found dead the next day. Eventually, they realized that there was a poison in the mattress and on the curtains of the four-poster bed that began to be released when the human body warmed up under the covers, killing the victims in their sleep.

And the poison was there! The mattress was laced beneath the sheets with a thick, yellowish powder. They were very generous with the poison. Were the candles poisoned too? Most probably. The carpets? The walls? As the room began to heat up, I extinguished all the candles except one, which I held as far away possible from my face, while I quickly scanned the room, even the walls.

As the time was passing and my tries of finding an escape route were to no avail, I became more and more restless. I couldn't find anything that would help me and I was afraid of stumbling upon another trap. I had to be careful not to touch my body by mistake, because my hands were covered in poison and even my pajamas had traces of that accursed powder. The tips of my fingers were starting to tingle. I needed to use that bathroom to wash myself...

"Damn it! Is there really no way out?"

Suddenly, I remembered how loudly the priestess had spoken in the great hall and looked up at the ceiling.

I lit two more candles and saw a huge painting above the canopy of the bed. It was a portrait of a handsome man, wearing a golden crown with sapphires and being dressed in royal robes. Did the other rooms have a portrait of the king too? But the placement of that painting where almost no one would notice it seemed odd. Why put a life-size painting if it was meant to be hidden by the curtains and canopy of the bed? It didn't make sense. Not to me, anyway. Unless... 

I climbed onto the bedside table, then perched on top of the canopy. The candle flame flickered as I held it close to the painting.

"So there's an opening behind the painting…"

Surprisingly, I pushed the painting aside quite easily, and just as I had expected, behind it was a corridor wide and high enough for the king himself to walk through. It was empty and lit by crystal lamps. I hesitated a little, after all, it could've been a new trap, although it seemed unlikely... especially when they made sure the rest of the room could kill anyone who spent the night in here. I had to take a chance, hoping that it wouldn't get me into something far worse than the poisoned room.

I blew out the candle, putting it into my pocket, and followed the lit passage.