THE NEXT DAY
Sunlight crept through the slitted windows, pale and reluctant, casting long shadows on the wooden floor. The hearth crackled softly in the corner, the low pop of embers the only sound in the room.
Cassandra sat on the edge of the massive bed, a thick robe draped around her shoulders, her feet bare and pale against the cold floor. She hadn't slept well. After her breakdown the night before, she had cried herself into an exhausted stupor. No dreams. No visions. Just the black silence of a mind too full to think.
When she woke up, Darius wasn't there.
Nor Rowan.
Only a quiet, doe-eyed maid who entered with a tray of food, placed it carefully on the table, and avoided her gaze as she curtsied and left. Cassandra had barely touched the food. Her appetite was buried under laye
