Camilla

My heels click on the tiles of the long corridor. The smell of pine fills my nose as the dark shiny wooden beams hold my interest. My black pencil skirt and jacket not long enough to shield me from the meeting I have been dreading since my Grandfather had called for me. The call came in the form of a phone call for a change and not a nuclear Armageddon. Regardless, I had to drop everything and get my ass here as soon as possible. Or my Grandfather would declare a world war 3.

I knew he was in a crappy mood when he called me himself. It was not a 'how is my granddaughter doing' type of phone call. This particular phone call was a summons.

Which meant he had reached his decision.

So to say the corridor I walked through was long, and it should be longer was not me understating it.

I get to the brown wooden door as the soldiers who stand on either side tip their heads in greeting.