The soft morning light filtered through the high windows of Noel's room. The once-oppressive heat had finally begun to fade, giving way to a more bearable warmth. Noir lay curled up near his legs, her black fur with subtle purple accents gently rising and falling with her quiet breaths. She didn't seek shade anymore—just the comfort of being near him.
Noel groaned, lifting a hand to his forehead.
"Ugh… my head feels like it's about to explode. We really shouldn't have drunk that much..."
The night at Mirae's came back to him in fragments—Charlotte's bright laughter, Elena's flushed cheeks as she tried to keep pace, and Elyra's smug grin as she poured glass after glass of Estermont vintage, clearly enjoying her role as the instigator. They had all eaten well, talked too much, and drank more than they should have.
"We're getting the announcement today… two days until we leave. Daemar will probably tell us during training since Nicolas is still out."
