Early the following morning, Evanna snuck out of the palace. Her heart still ached, even more so from the nostalgic feeling of sneaking around and trying to avoid Sir Hugh, who had now been replaced. Arawn was still asleep in her quarters, his long white hair blanketing the cushion to his side, his naked torso pointed towards where she had been lying. It took quite a lot of effort to slip from his greedy clutches without stirring him.