The Bar is on the Floor

26 August, 1370. St Ivan's Palace, Havietten

Is it daytime already, or am I dreaming?

Celia opened her eyes a little, then shut them tight again when light hit them.

It's definitely not night anymore.

Still, she wasn't ready to wake up yet. She let herself sink back into her pillow with a contented sigh, happy to let sleep claim her for a while longer.

A sound echoed through the bedchamber though, like a steady pounding. What the hell? Determined to ignore it, Celia rolled over and pulled the blanket over her ear.

The sound continued, followed by a muffled call. "My lady! Can you hear me?"

Rae. Knocking on my door, Celia slowly realised.

"I'm sleeping!" she growled.

"You have a visitor here!"

"I don't care about that! Send them away." With every word, Celia felt sleep drifting away from her grasp and this was extremely upsetting.