Flame

She squinted against the sunlight streaming through the window, the golden rays bright enough to suggest midmorning, though she had no idea if it was still the same day or the next.

It took her a moment to register that Nicholas's bed, which had been just across from hers, was empty. The sheets were still rumpled, a faint imprint of his form left behind, but the man himself was nowhere to be seen.

Before she could dwell too long on her thoughts, the door opened, and Elena stepped in, a smug smile dancing on her lips. She carried herself with a breezy confidence, the kind of self-assurance Emberline could only admire from afar.

"You're awake," Elena said, setting a small bundle of linens onto a chair. "Good. I was starting to think you'd sleep another day away."

"How long was I sleeping?" Emberline asked, her voice scratchy and uneven.