Rosamund
I woke up feeling like I'd slept for a hundred years.
My body was loose and warm, my limbs heavy with the kind of deep rest that usually only came after days of exhaustion. I stretched slowly, arching my back, pointing my toes beneath the sheets, my arms reaching above my head until my fingers brushed the headboard. A contented sigh escaped me, and I smiled without opening my eyes.
The room had a pleasant coolness that settled on my skin like silk. It was the kind of weather that made you want to stay in bed for another hour with something warm in your hands.
I stretched again, longer this time and yawned wide enough to crack my jaw.
"Fanny," I called, my eyes still closed. "The weather is perfect for hot soup and wine. Could you ask Mrs Harlow to have some sent up?"
Silence.
I frowned and turned my head to the pillow. "Fanny?"
