I woke to the soft rustle of curtains and the gentle clink of porcelain.
Morning light filtered through the tall windows, pale and warm, a sharp contrast to the night before. For a moment, I lay still, letting myself register the fact that I was awake, alive, and not currently poisoned.
[Congratulations, Host,] Nero said. [You have successfully survived another night without dying.]
High praise, as always.
My body still felt heavy, but not unbearable. More like I had been run over by a very polite carriage that had apologized afterward.
The door opened quietly.
"Good morning," Maribel whispered far too loudly, entering with a tray balanced in her hands. "You're awake!"
"I was planning on sleeping until noon," I muttered. "You've ruined everything."
She grinned, utterly unapologetic. "You'll thank me later."
She set the tray on the bedside table—warm porridge, fruit, tea that smelled faintly of honey. Real food. Comfort food.
"Thank you," I said, meaning it.
