"Csilla," the sound of her name hung like an echo strayed in the morning haze which woke and enveloped her up. The familiar voice probed her in her sleep. She opened her eyes as she stirred sluggishly, feeling as if she was weighted and feverish. With her great effort, she sat up and reached with herself as if searching.
The voice was coming from her brother— Audemar Cirillo, who had a worried look plastered on his face. "Csilla?" he called out once more.
Audemar cradled Andraste Csilla's head on his lap as his platinum-blonde hair trailed down about his eyes like a veil.
"Brother?" she asked sleepily.
"Yes, it is I, Csilla," Audemar confirmed.
Andraste blinked several times, forcing herself to stay awake. The first thing that registered in her vision was the towering frame of Commander Eldwin Madris, who was standing beside Stephan Paseur. Her eyes roamed around them and met the gaze of the young Erbach knight.
