AylaLugh’s half of the bed is cold. My hand drags across the wool sheet before I am properly awake, a reflex the body engages while the mind lags. The fabric is flat, the bed not yet disturbed by him. I pull my hand back, my gaze catching the slit windows directly above the head of the bed. They let in the thin, indifferent grey of early morning light; a grey so early it doesn’t warm anything yet.Below, in the stone courtyard, one of the stable boys is scraping his iron shovel over the cobbles, hitting the same pitch on every third stroke. I hear the voices of two others near the hay loft, murmuring too low to pick up words, while silence rests heavy outside our chamber door because Lugh stayed down at his midnight watch.The hearth fire is out.I stand beside it, pulling on the left boot by habit, easing the metal buckle at the ankle over the toe. My fingers are clumsy with the morning chill. The jagged edge catches the wrong way twice on the skin below my thumb, nipping hard befor
Last Updated : 2026-05-28 Read more