Chapter 40. Heat and Silence

When Lora finally stirred, the air that greeted her was a gentle warmth that seemed to pause in place, as though even the molecules had been instructed to stay silent. There was no breeze drifting through the shutters, no bird trilling insistently outside the window, no faint rustle of linen robes or hushed footsteps from a servant’s corridor.

The quiet didn’t simply exist; it was carefully arranged, like a host who had gone out of their way to remove every decorative object that might clink or creak, leaving only the hushed potential of sound itself. Lora lay perfectly still on the soft mattress, feeling neither ache nor tingle, but rather a curious suspension of sensation that left her body remarkably at ease.

The room was dim, its windows shuttered against direct sunlight, yet a pale, honeyed glow stole through the slats, dust motes suspended in its path like drifting pollen. These motes wobbled in lazy loops, each a tiny universe hung in amber, and for a moment Lora