The gentle sound of birds chirping stirred me from sleep.
At first, the sound seemed strangely close, too clear and delicate to belong to some distant garden below. When I opened my eyes, I found the source of it immediately. Two small birds were perched near the window just ahead of me, resting against the carved stone frame as if they had every right to be there. They chirped softly to one another and pecked lightly at each other in that tender, absentminded way creatures did when they belonged together. Perhaps they were a pair. They looked peaceful, untouched by war, untouched by grief, untouched by the heaviness that still lingered in every corridor of the castle.
Slowly, I pushed myself upright and looked around.
My room.
My own quarters.
