The grandfather clock in the dining area chimes 03:00, and Morziwayn looks up from the book in her lap with no recollection of what she had been reading, but she had read nearly a hundred pages. She looks around the common room for the others, only to find out she’s sitting in the chair all alone, nestled in her undergarments beneath a grey wool blanket, her clothes folded neatly on the table beside her with her sling placed on top; the fire in the hearth had long since died.

  Placing the book by her clothes, she stands with a falter; the blanket drops to the floor at her feet. She languidly folds the blanket—not perfect, but it will do—and sets it in the chair. She would like somewhere warmer to sleep. Her head spinning and body heavy, she makes her way up the stairs to the third floor to wake Gyrshke, in hopes there is a free room or a warm bed somewhere.

  Morziwayn knocks softly on the door, not wanting to wake anyone; she waits, no response. She knocks harder and hears the rustling of sheets and a groan shortly after.

  Eue-Lysae, still intoxicated, drags herself out of bed. Rubbing her face, she trudges her way over to the door and opens it. She looks down at Morziwayn. “Yes?”

  “I need a place to sleep; I would rather not sleep on the couch.” Since Gyrshke’s crossing of the veil [1] a few years prior, there had always been a spare bed at the college, or she would simply stay at Herst Castle on invitation from Athalric; unfortunately, she did not get a chance to ask Katherina if she could borrow a room, and all the rooms Gyrshke could give her were now occupied.

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  “You can join me.” Eue-Lysae has no issues sharing; on cold winter nights, when she was a priestess, she and her roommate, Noyale, would push their beds together and rotate the mattresses to make a larger bed—she pushes the memory away.

  Rubbing her eyes, Morziwayn nods and walks past Gyrshke. The moonlight weaving its way through the curtains faintly illuminated the large bedroom. Gyrshke, crawling up from the foot of the bed, makes her way back beneath the covers; she lifts them up, patting the spot on the mattress next to her.

  Morziwayn gets into the bed and turns to face Gyrshke. It’s warm under the soft duvet. The two windows on either side of the bed, slightly ajar, bring in the snowy night air wafting from the lake; it’s crisp with, strangely enough, slight hints of wine.

  “I’m going back to sleep; sleep well.” Eue-Lysae mutters and closes her eyes.

  Morziwayn lies there, staring at the ceiling for what feels to be an hour; no matter how groggy she feels, she can’t sleep. She runs her tongue over the stubs of her front teeth. The past few days replay themselves in her mind as she checks to make sure she did everything that she could have done right.

  Eue-Lysae rolls onto her side and pulls Morziwayn in against her body, holding her tightly, like she did with her stuffed bear Berak when she was younger.

  “Gyrshke.” Morziwayn asks, her voice muffled. “Do you think you can fix those pants?”

  “Of course, just ask me again in the morning, Dee.” Eue-Lysae mutters.

  “No, this is Morziwayn.” She whispers, confused with Gyrshke’s answer, unsure if she was awake or just talking in her sleep. Morziwayn isn’t given a response and instead is just hugged tighter. She falls asleep shortly after.