At daybreak, Uzziel went to look for Fara.
They had agreed to meet early, before the palace began to fill with voices and footsteps. He thought he would find her awake already, perhaps watching the faded sky or walking among the few gardens that still endured.
But when he knocked on the door of the room they had been assigned, there was no response.
“Fara?” he said, gently pushing.
The room was dimly lit. The curtains barely let in the grayish light from outside. The air felt dense, laden with an unusual humidity.
Fara was in bed.
She was not asleep.
Her body trembled slightly, as if she were cold, although her skin was neither pale nor feverish. Her hands clutched the sheets tightly, her knuckles white. Her brow furrowed, her lips parted, murmuring incoherent words.
Uzziel felt hi
