Grasping the edges of the quilt in her tiny hands, she shimmied to the edge of the mattress.
She held her breath, her dark eyes fixed on Kaelus's face.
If his eyelashes even twitched, she was prepared to throw herself back onto the pillows and pretend to be dead.
He didn't stir.
His breathing remained deep and even, the exhaustion pulling him under far deeper than his usual light, soldier's sleep.
Seraphina leaned forward, balancing precariously on the edge of the mattress, and gently draped the quilt over his broad shoulders, tucking the edges slightly around his crossed arms to keep it from slipping.
He looked a bit ridiculous now, a terrifying warlord swaddled in a soft, floral-patterned guest blanket, but Seraphina nodded in satisfaction.
Now, for the escape...
She slid off the tall bed, her bare feet hitting the polished hardwood floor.
The wood was cold, but it felt grounding.
She didn't walk; she tiptoed her way out.
Her heels never touched the ground.
