The next morning, Rosalind stirred awake to the gentle whisper of the morning breeze drifting through the curtains and the cheerful chirping of birds outside.
For one quiet moment, still caught between sleep and wakefulness, she almost believed she was back at the little beach house where they had escaped from the burdens of the palace.
The memory felt so vivid that she could almost hear the waves rolling against the shore, but the moment she opened her eyes fully, reality settled over her once again.
It all seemed so distant now that it almost felt like a dream that had never truly happened. Yet every time she tried to convince herself of that, the glass jar of seashells resting quietly on the table reminded her otherwise. It sat exactly where they had placed it, preserving those precious memories and refusing to let them fade.
She smiled faintly before sitting up, her gaze wandering around the chamber. Only then did she realize Rowan was no longer beside her.
