Davina's POV
"Davina…"
Someone was calling me. The voice was sweet, like a soft sponge cake drizzled with golden honey.
My heavy eyelids slowly lifted, letting light trickle in, chasing away the icy darkness clinging to my body.
Pale platinum hair. Amber eyes that gleamed like golden syrup.
"Cassian?"
I frowned in confusion, glancing around.
I was seated outside in the royal garden of Alpengard Palace. The table before me was laden with all kinds of pastries, the subtle scent of tea gently caressing my senses.
Wait—wasn't I just in Verelen, fighting a man with golden hair?
"You've been asleep all morning. Are you feeling alright, Your Highness?" Came a concerned voice from my left.
Drake was calmly pouring me a fresh cup of tea, replacing the one that had long gone cold.
"You've overworked yourself again, Davina. Perhaps you should take a break." Dylan added, sliding a plate of sweets toward me. His voice was composed, yet his eyes tracked my every move.
