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Tarras withdrew into the palace. He found his way down a winding stone staircase to the floor below. Here, a wide hallway stretched past large, empty ballrooms and reception areas. All were closed off with rope draped across their entrances. He soon spotted the wide, arched doorway that led onto the portico.Tarras paused, his hands clasped casually behind his back. He looked one way up the corridor, and then the other. He knew there was a guard just around the corner at the end of the hall from where he had come, as he had spotted the man as he came off the stairs. But no guard whatsoever had this doorway in his direct line of sight.He stepped out onto the portico. The leaves rustled gently in the breeze overhead, and dappled sunlight jittered in swaying patterns along the tile. Spanning the tall columns that marked the outer edge of the portico were carved stone railings, entwined with bright green vines.Tarras stepped up to the railing. The edge of the trees stretched north and. I stepped inside the wardrobe, it was large, and each hanger hung at right angles to the rails and not turned at an angle to fit. There were two rails, about five feet apart, and about twenty dresses on each rail. Sal’ closed the door and turned the latch. It was pitch dark, I could sense the dresses around me, I moved forward, and brushed into one, then another on my other side. I felt a dress brush against my stocking clad leg on one side, then another on the other side. I extended my arms, and turned around, the dresses brushing over my arms. I could feel chiffon brush against my arms, and satin, there was the roughness of net from some of the petticoats, and the dimpled effect of elasticised busts on strapless dresses. I could feel sequins and diamante, and I could identify what some dresses were. There were prom dresses, cocktail dresses, little black dresses, There were a couple of suits I think, with blouses hung inside them. There was a chiffon jump suit, and several ball.
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