The dark veil of night slowly peeled away, giving rise to a reluctant dawn. Hints of morning crept through the parted curtains, casting soft golden slashes across the shadowed walls of the chamber.
The bed was still warm.
Alicia stirred, a low whimper escaping her lips before her eyes even fluttered open. Her head pounded. Breathing felt like she was inhaling fog. A groan tore from her throat as her hand dragged to her temple, her brows knitting in discomfort. Every limb felt weighed down—like she'd been swimming through tar in her sleep. Her lashes barely lifted.
"Arghh... What the hell..." she rasped, her voice dry, unfamiliar—even to herself.
She blinked, eyes stinging, and rubbed the remnants of sleep away. Everything was still blurry. Doubled. Tilted. Like her mind hadn't yet escaped the pull of wine-soaked dreams.
Her body tensed as she pushed herself upright, hissing at the sudden brightness filtering in. The dull morning light lashed at her aching skull.
