~Annalyn POV~
When I woke, the taste of ashes was still in my mouth. Perhaps it was my imagination, or perhaps it was the lingering smoke of the fire I lit last night. My body felt heavy, like the air around me had turned into water, and every breath was an effort. The room was dim, curtains drawn halfway, sunlight pushing timidly across the floorboards, yet my chest ached as if I stood in endless darkness.
The door creaked open, and I smelled warm bread before I saw the tray. Celix stepped inside, looking composed, carrying breakfast in both hands. He did not smile, but his eyes softened when they fell on me.
"You're crying," he said, placing the tray on the table by the bed. His voice was low, almost coaxing, as though he feared I might shatter with one wrong note.
I touched my cheek with trembling fingers, and I hadn't noticed the tears.
Celix came closer, his scent filling the room, steady and calm. "Still thinking about your mother?"
