The next morning:
Aire woke slowly.
Her lashes fluttered before her eyes opened fully. The first thing she noticed wasn't her ceilings, but a strange taste.
It sat faintly at the back of her tongue. The taste was metallic and barely there, but wrong enough to be noticed.
Aire frowned slightly.
Her tongue pressed lightly against the roof of her mouth, as though trying to understand it. Dizziness followed the taste.
Aire sighed lightly. Her fingers curled lightly against the sheets beneath her. The feeling didn't last. It faded almost as quickly as it came, slipping away before she could properly grasp it.
She exhaled slowly.
Her gaze lifted to the ceiling.
For a moment, she stayed there, unmoving, and letting herself settle fully into wakefulness.
However, that moment of silence was cut short when the door opened without a knock and her permission.
Aire didn't turn immediately. She already knew who would open her door that way.
Madam.
