-SELENE-
Cinnamon. And star anise.
Goddess, my mouth felt like sandpaper.
I stretched my leg. The muscle groaned, taut.
Soft. A cloud. Satin sheets.
I pried my eyes open.
Too much light. It stabbed.
A low sound escaped me: half cry, half breath.
"You are awake! Finally!" Margriet’s voice trembled, warm and stretched thin with relief.
I cleared my throat. "Where am I?"
I blinked, dragging dried sleep from my lashes with my fingers.
"A guest room in Laare’s palace. You collapsed in the prince’s chamber. They carried you here so you could rest up."
My vision finally sharpened. Margriet sat in a wooden chair beside the bed, her cook’s apron still dusted with flour. Her eyes looked worn, like she hadn’t slept in a while.
I tried to sit up. My muscles resisted, stiff from stillness.
