Book 15: A Slip of the Tongue

Blake

Marianna and I doze in the quiet darkness of my bedroom for nearly an hour before convincing each other to get up long enough to put on clothes and brush our teeth, at least. Within minutes, we’re back in bed. Marianna snuggles close while I stare at the ceiling, listening to the… silence, as she drifts back to sleep.

The world is a shockingly loud place, even in the dead of night. Normally, this is when the stars–the voices in my head–are the most annoying. Loud. Chaotic. Constantly chattering back and forth about everything and nothing all at once. But now?

I can hear the breeze coming through the windows. The curtains tremble, fabric brushing against the wall. The palace creaks, settling, pipes groaning and rumbling all around but hushed by the thick walls.

I don’t remember closing my eyes. I don’t remember a blank, empty kind of sleep washing over me–dreamless. But I wake several hours later to the moonlight shifting across the grou