The castle did not feel the same in the morning. Lucrezia noticed it before she had even opened her eyes.
There was a strange stillness in the room, an unnatural quiet that seemed to press against her ears. The usual sounds of the servants' wing—the shuffle of footsteps, the occasional opening and closing of doors, the low murmur of voices drifting through the walls—were absent.
For a few moments, she remained beneath the woollen blanket, staring at the dim ceiling. Then she remembered where she was.
Nalia's room.
And, more importantly, why she had chosen to spend the night there.
Her thoughts returned to the previous evening: Vaeron's frightening appearance in the bathing chamber, the strength of his grip, and the way his eyes had changed. She could still recall the brief moment when she had believed she was looking at someone entirely different.
A shiver passed through her.
