Sunlight came like a benediction through the high windows of Anana’s room, painting the floor in pale gold. After five days in Iris’s chamber, she was finally home…her room. Her feet found the cool floorboards as she walked, and the silk gown Lucien had left beside the bed slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her ankles like spilled milk.
She stood for a moment, a naked silhouette backlit by the morning light, then moved toward the washroom. Water ran warm and strong, and the stream felt like a small mercy, washing the exhaustion from her skin. Steam curled, blurring edges; the world narrowed to the sound of water and her own uneven breathing.
When she finished she lingered at the mirror. The glass fogged under her fingertips until she drew a neat line through the condensation with t
