The sunlight poured through the window. Birds were singing beyond the glass. In a vase on the bedside table stood fresh white roses.
I woke up in my bed, in my room, in my home.
I sat up abruptly, gasping for air.
Blood. Screams. Bodies. Richard with a dagger in his chest...
All those horrifying images still stood clearly before my eyes.
I looked at my hands. Clean. Not a drop of blood.
"Good morning, Aunt."
The voice made me flinch.
Rubyella was sitting on a chair beside my bed. She was wearing a simple light dress, her hair loose, and a book rested in her hands. The picture of idyllic calm.
This peaceful setting was strikingly different compared to what I had gone through not so long ago.
"Ruby..." My voice was hoarse. "Yesterday... I..."
"You must be tired," she gently interrupted, setting the book aside. "I had breakfast brought to your room. Your favorite cinnamon buns."
"Ruby!"
She froze, looking at me with an innocent expression.
