The early hours of the morning, beyond the strike of twelve, somehow made the clocks run slower. Ghanon could feel each ticking of the seconds hand, from the massive grandfather clock in the dining hall to the mantle clock on the grand fireplace in the parlor room. His hearing could extend out to the sound of the clocks all ticking in near unison; one or three was always faster than all the others. He could feel each minute move like the gradual shifting of land underneath flowing stream, soil stripped away not because of man-made production, but because change was a constant in all things. Ghanon slept but never dreamt for he was the embodiment his own dreams and though he was quiet, his mind was restless and had only half-drifted.
He murmured a half response to Ba'ast but it was too quiet to articulate properly. Something along the lines of: "I'd like to see you try." But by then, he was out and, in some dream state, recalled that she had covered them both with the slightly disheveled sheets, should anyone pry on them, even if the door was locked. Distantly, he thought he heard shocked voices, ones he soon imagined had come from what had been Ophelia's room, muttering amongst themselves about what to do with yet another body. He doubted the Baron would give much of a damn once he heard the news, which was bound to be soon. Perhaps a sudden glance and realize that one of his winners had refused his oh-so-generous advice. Ophelia wouldn't have lasted long anyway, not without breaking a fraction of her disguise. Because all the doors remained locked and the gentleman's wife was still missing, the only commotion beyond was that of the hushed voices of the servants, but even Ghanon didn't bat an eye at that.
His form was vaguely ethereal while he slept, as the atmosphere in the room changed and the soft glow of the remaining lamps somehow grew dimmer. The walls began, gradually to melt away, revealing a bricked stoneface underneath, and the bed they were on began to dissolve carefully into the ground, a seamless relaxed motion. The paintings and mirror were gone and so was the rest of the furniture, leaving the walls to be drenched in torchlight.
The new glow caused Ghanon's eyes to spring open, awakening to find himself not in a bedroom but in a tunnel. The sheets were gone and his clothes shimmered back onto him. Sitting up from where had lain on the ground, he looked around. "Oh Baron, you are a very clever man indeed," he whispered to himself.
