Rain whispered beyond the balcony, the estate slept and Consort finally turned from the night and entered her chambers.
They were humble compared to the rest of Ashford grandeur, though humble in Ashford language still meant the room would have made lesser nobles accuse poverty of favoritism. It was narrow but immaculate, with pale walls, dark wood, a single bed dressed in white, a small desk, a wardrobe, a washstand, shelves of neatly folded linens and one vase of fresh flowers she had absolutely not placed there because Phei once said flowers made rooms less lonely.
That would have been absurd.
The flowers were there for air quality.
'Obviously.'
