The heavy velvet curtains of the Azure royal private bedchamber were drawn tight, sealing out every stray beam of the morning sun that had brought the rest of the palace to life. Inside, the darkness was absolute, heavy and thick, smelling stale with the cloying floral perfumes Azure had sprayed for weeks to drown out the natural scent of the stone walls.
Azure sat slumped against the foot of her massive bed, her knees pulled tightly to her chest. Her limbs felt like lead, a deep, hollow ache humming through her bones from the violent spiritual backlash of the night before. Her fingers trembled as she reached up, her nails catching on the fabric of her sleeve as she wiped at her upper lip. The blood had dried into a stiff, metallic crust beneath her nose.
She stared into the blackness of the room, her chest heaving as a quiet, jagged sob tore from her throat.
