A Guiding Hand

The next morning Ursa woke up refreshed. It was unlike any other sleep she’d had before. Although the spot next to hers was a bit cold, Ursa still revelled in her husband’s smell, which lingered on the pillow. 

She slowly slipped out of bed, her feet reeling back from the cool sensation of the tiled floor. On the table in the corner there was a blouse, black skirt, and a thin lavender greca with a note on top. It had messy penmanship-- barely legible-- but Ursa managed to make out what it said. 

‘Beloved Ursa, 

I left early to spar with Kassio. A priestess-in-training had some clothes you can borrow until we can retrieve our belongings. Breakfast should be in the Mess Hall-- I’ll ask someone to guide you there! Don’t miss me too much!