Chapter 40: Threads of Morning
The soft hush of morning filled the room like a secret. Pale light stretched across the floor, spilling through the parted curtains in long golden threads. Tiania blinked slowly into the calm, the edges of sleep and memory still tangled around her.
She was alone. Not in the way she used to be, where silence echoed with emptiness, but in the kind of way that felt restful. Safe.
The kiss lingered in her mind like a warm memory. Not fiery or dizzying, but grounding. Last night, when Henrick touched her lips, it didn’t feel like he was taking something; it felt like he was giving something back. Something she didn’t know she’d missed until it returned.
A shaky breath left her lips as she turned onto her side. The journal Viania had left on the nightstand stared back at her. Leather-bound, blank, waiting.
