Lady Anala
Anala woke around midday. Someone had dressed her in her favored sleep clothes and tucked her into her bed. The cloak Aro had had made for her before he died rested on top of the quilts, and a fire roared in her chambers' fireplace.
Lares lay next to her, on top of the bedclothes, his face holding pensive worry.
Somewhere, Anala found her voice. "Me sister?"
"She woke an hour ago. It did not hit her so hard as it hit you and Lady Autumn."
She raised an eyebrow at the honorific. "Jester'd not be a noble, Lares."
"She's Magi. That is its own nobility."
She wanted to smile at his logic. Every inch of her being felt leached of life-giving oxygen and smiling felt as alien as flying. The silence stretched on as she stared at the quilt, trying not to think, and Lares stared at h
