A lute, she thought dimly, her mind struggling to lift out of its sleepy stupor. Someone was playing a lute. And she was…where? In a room? Yes. Not her room at Castle Siere, but a room somewhere. Without opening her eyes she could sense light, the kind of light that meant day, and a gentle breeze caressed her shoulders and face. The bed she lay upon was firm and comfortable, the sheets were cool against her skin. Stretching, yawning, keeping her eyes closed, she snuggled into the mattress and tried to make sense of it all. Her memories were blurred, at best. She had been so very weary and in so much pain. The wounds on her back had felt hot as fire and had stung as though soaked with lime. The battle to keep going had been fierce, indeed. And then she had caught sight of the inn. What had she done with her horse? she wondered. She couldn’t recall whether she’d had enough sense to stable it or not, only that she had somehow dragged her aching body inside the smoky depths of the inn to request a room.
