The sun was high in the sky, pushing its way through the heavy velvet curtains of the master suite. A single beam of light hit the pillow, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air.
Carcel stirred. He reached out his arm instinctively. His hand moved across the cool, smooth sheets, searching for warmth. He searched for the curve of a waist, the softness of hair, or the heat of skin.
His hand found nothing but linen.
Carcel frowned in his sleep. He patted the mattress again, sweeping his arm wider.
Still nothing.
His eyes flew open. He blinked against the dim light, his mind foggy with the remnants of deep sleep. He turned his head sharply to the left.
The pillow beside him was indented, showing where a head had rested, but it was empty.
Carcel sat up immediately. The sheet fell to his waist, exposing his bare chest to the cool air. He looked around the vast bed.
"Ines?" he called out, his voice rough with sleep.
Silence answered him.
