Lorraine's POV
I woke up feeling as though my skull had been split in half. My head was heavy, yet light at the same time, a strange floating sensation that made the world tilt sideways. For a long moment, I just lay there, my vision blurry, shapes bending and warping in front of me like I was peering through water.
Where…. where was I?
My throat was dry, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. I blinked, forcing my eyes to adjust to the dim light until the haze began to clear.
And then it all came rushing back.
The fire. The Queen's funeral. That sickening prickly feeling crawling beneath my skin like a thousand burning needles stabbing me all at once. The whispers, loud, endless, clawing at my skull until I thought I'd go mad. The fire's glow, brighter and brighter, and then…. nothing.
I had collapsed.
My stomach twisted. Did I collapse in the middle of the Queen's funeral? In front of everyone?
