Jaenor stirred awake to the gentle sound of waves lapping against the harbor pilings and the distant cry of gulls.
The morning sun streamed through the bedroom window, casting golden patterns across the rumpled sheets. He reached automatically for Odessa's warmth, only to find empty space beside him.
The scent of jasmine lingered on her pillow, but she was nowhere to be seen.
He sat up, listening for sounds from elsewhere in the house. The familiar clatter of pottery from the kitchen below eased his worry, and he smiled despite himself. Even after six months, Odessa still rose before dawn, claiming that the early morning hours were the most productive for her mysterious work.
He dressed quickly in his work clothes—simple canvas trousers and a linen shirt that had seen better days—and made his way downstairs. The scent of fresh bread and brewing tea filled the air, a homey comfort that never failed to ground him.
