I woke up not knowing where I was.
That specific panic, the split second before your surroundings resolve into something recognisable lasted longer than usual. The ceiling was wrong. The light was wrong. The sounds of the house were different from the Draven mansion, quieter and older, settling into themselves rather than performing stillness.
Then it came back. The stone house. The wild garden. The crackers on the bedside table.
Lucian.
I sat up slowly. The bedside table had been cleared of the cracker plate at some point during the night and replaced with a fresh glass of water and a small bowl of cut fruit. I stared at it for a moment. Someone had come into this room while I slept and done that without waking me.
The thought should have unsettled me. Instead I picked up a piece of
