The feverish hot dreams drifted her through the broken warm memories of their night. Nesrin could hear him softly calling her name, his warmth that embraced her everywhere, and yet it never felt enough.
In her dreams the storm was no more, there was a burning hearth whose fire cleansed all the worries and fears away.
It was beautiful while it lasted but somewhere in those dreams that felt too real, the hearth gradually became worn out, and the fire dimmed. The coldness and the howling of the storm returned.
Nesrin found herself standing in front of the hearth, confused and speechless.
A soft weary voice echoed from behind her.
'Right after His Majesty took you away, I followed the both of you out and Her Majesty was there. But she had a scary look...'
Noah's voice faded when Nesrin turned back. There was nothing but an empty armchair. Lightning flashed, and her heart lurched.
