Clara's hand reached out from beneath the blanket, her thumb catching the brass strike-lever of the alarm clock a second before the hammer hit the bell.
She sat up in the quiet room, running her fingers through her tangled hair while looking at the muted clock face.
The small wooden tray near her doorway remained empty.
Noel had not sent any emergency assignments.
For the first time in three weeks, her morning belonged entirely to her.
She spent an unhurried hour getting ready.
She washed her face in the porcelain basin, brushed her hair until the knots smoothed out, and pulled on a dark blue skirt paired with a cream blouse.
Looking into the oval mirror near the wardrobe, she tied a dark ribbon through her hair, adjusting the knot until it rested flat against her collar.
She locked her room and walked down the stone stairs toward the small commercial district behind the academy's residential quarters.
