THE SHRILL CRIES OF SEAGULLS FEATHERED SOFTLY over the royal wing of the Ivory Castle. Though the morning birds sang their melody over the high hills bordering the Carrean sea, the swift wind carried the sounds to the hallowed chambers of the Palace.
It was this early tune that awakened Esabel from her sleep. It was a short one, barely enough to rejuvenate her.
Considering the exertion of the previous night—and early morning, the princess was quite keen on getting a good rest. But then came the birds' singing and she softly opened her eyes to it.
The first place her gaze went to was the space beside her.
"Fuck," she muttered, meeting nothing but a large expanse of sheets where Marsil should've been. Ferra lay with her back to her on the other side of the bed.
The young woman grasped a large pillow to herself and Esabel suspected that she too missed the great warmth of the Prince.
