Misplaced Kindness

Lathel did not know when he had drifted off.

When awareness slowly returned, morning light had already slipped through a gap in the curtains and drawn a long band across the floor. The room was still very quiet. The chair beside the bed was empty, but the moment he opened his eyes, Lathel could still catch a faint scent lingering near the pillow. It was different from the medicinal smell that usually hung in the room—softer, carrying a cold floral note he had grown used to over the past few days.

Catrina.

He stayed still a while longer, his gaze unconsciously settling on the chair she had occupied all night. He still remembered that, before falling asleep, he had unconsciously caught the hem of Catrina's dress, unwilling to let her leave a room that had grown too quiet.

Just thinking back on that gesture made him a little uneasy. Until now, Lathel had never taken the initiative to keep a woman at his side like that.

"Finally awake?"