Guinevere splashed water on her face and looked up at her reflection. Her reflection wasn't alone.
She screamed.
Spun. Empty bathing chamber. Spun back.
Gone.
Her hands were shaking and her pulse was a war drum.
"I am verbally processing and am not losing my mind."
She had woken up in the dark alone with fog in her brain and an icepack on her neck and had come to the bathing chamber to investigate. Now she was hallucinating. Fantastic. Wonderful. A real crowning achievement.
She gently pulled off the gauze that was bandaged to her neck.
Two puncture marks. Neat. Fresh. Bruised.
Between the punctures was a golden dragon mark she had been wearing since the first time she was marked. That's when she caught movement in the background.
She glanced up.
The jester was standing behind her. It tilted its head and waved.
"To hell with that. Fuck no." She let out a crazy-woman laugh and did not give a flying fuck because her sanity had left the building.
