Misa couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned, flipped her pillow over, pulled the sheets over her head. It was no use. Sleep eluded her, teasing her, taunting her. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Royle, shirtless, his chest well-defined from years of training at the purgehouse. There was a reason officers in the purgehouse were popular among noble women, and it seldom had to do with their occupation.
Growling, Misa tore the blanket from her and leaped out of bed. At this rate, she was going to stay up all night. And for what? Strange fantasies that had sprung up from nowhere? There must have been a reason this was happening to her. What changed? Why was she feeling like this when she so desperately wanted nothing to do with romance?
Misa paced in her room, tugging at her hair, tryi
