Faint morning light filtered through heavy curtains and soft lace drapes, gently tugging at Isabell's consciousness as the needs of her body grew increasingly persistent in banishing sleep from her mind.
The bed she woke in was one of the largest she'd ever slept in and the most comfortable by far. The sheets were soft and silky and the blankets were fluffy with a weight to them that made it feel almost like she'd fallen asleep in Casquas' gentle embrace. The lace curtains that hung from the bed frame were intricately woven and dyed a pale blue that grew darker the further up the curtain she looked.
It would have been a glorious morning to wake up to, if not for the pounding headache that felt like horses stampeding across her skull and the pain in her eyes that felt like someone had stuffed fistfulls of coarse salt under her eyelids every time she blinked.
