When I opened my eyes, it was with a jolt of guilt.
The bed beneath me was too soft, the blankets too warm, the silence too absolute. I stretched slowly, feeling the ache in my muscles ease as if I had been wrapped in comfort for years instead of a single night. And the worst part?
I had slept—really slept.
Deep and dream-heavy.
My lips pressed into a thin line. How could I rest like this when Malrik and Elira were at home without me? When every other night of my life had been carved into fragments of restless tossing and jerks awake at the faintest sound?
I hated it.
I hated how good it felt.
And yet, even as I rolled onto my back, staring up at the ornate ceiling, I couldn’t deny the truth: I’d probably slept more in the last twenty-four hours than I had in years. I felt… whole
