Chapter 82| A Lovely Morning

Heavy laughter filtered through the cottage like sunlight through mist, warm and unfamiliar, rousing Aricia from her slumber. The sound was so foreign, so impossibly lighthearted, that it didn’t register at first as real.

Her lashes fluttered open slowly, and she blinked against the brightness seeping through the thin windowpanes. Dust motes floated lazily in the golden stream of light, giving the room a surreal, peaceful atmosphere.

The murmur of voices drifted to her ears—feminine and amused, laced with the occasional deeper register—and her feet found the floor before her mind was fully awake. The worn wood creaked beneath her as she padded toward the doorway, each step pulling her closer to clarity.

She paused at the edge of the living room, a yawn caught halfway in her throat.

"Madame Freya?" she murmured, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as her brain finally began to piece the scene together.