Velvet Redoubt

Night took the workroom, silencing the street beyond the glass. I stepped into the clearance beneath the tool rack, moving into the alcove inspected earlier. Resting in the deep shadow was an antique hard-shell spectacles case of pressed steel, lined with aged black velvet. Its sprung lid hung slightly ajar. Planting my boots on the cold pine, I braced the rim of my buckler against the upper lip and levered the steel shell open. Into the seam, I slotted a heavy knurled brass thumb nut, locking the mouth rigid at two fingers' width. I stepped over the threshold and gathered my cloak close against the velvet interior. Sheltered on every flank. Rest begins.