The next morning, Eleanor woke up feeling as if she had just been freed from a terrible nightmare—a night that had haunted her for so long. Her body felt refreshingly light, and she noticed that even her shoulders seemed less tense than usual.
"..." As she stretched her arms languidly toward the ceiling and swung her feet off the bed, she slipped her feet into soft, feathered slippers with a quiet sigh of relief.
Beside her, Tina was already at the ready, a basin of warm water and a freshly laundered, fragrant towel in hand.
"Thank you," Eleanor murmured as she splashed water on her face, then gently patted it dry with the towel.
"Are you sure you don't want to bathe?" Tina offered, retrieving the basin and setting it aside, her tone both caring and slightly insistent.
Eleanor shook her head, a touch of nonchalance in her reply.
"Maybe later—midday." Despite her casual tone, her mind buzzed with thoughts that would not let her rest.