The white ceiling above her, criss-crossed with carved oak beams, was unfamiliar. Turning her head on the pillow, she encountered a latticed window, flanked by chintz curtains liberally splashed with a pattern of pink roses. The view from the window was unencouraging - low, sullen grey clouds. She supposed that if she sat up, she would obtain a better view of her surroundings, but the effort required was too much to even think about. She lay relaxed beneath the warm feather quilt, puzzled by her change in circumstances but too tired to care. Her last vague memory was of struggling through a dense stand of wet hazel trees and the hard feel of Celedorn’s arm supporting her. Celedorn! With an effort she raised her head, to discover that she was alone in the room. A fire burned brightly in the hearth, flanked by comfortable padded armchairs. Against the back wall of the room, a small table, covered in a white cloth, was set for dining - but unfortunately without the food. Vaguely, she realised that she was hungry and wondered dreamily if someone would come along soon and explain how she got here.
What do You think about The Crystal Chalice (Book 1)?
