Rosalind lay in bed, her body weary and yearning for rest, but her mind refused to surrender to sleep. Her mind seemed immune to the weariness that pervaded her limbs. As she lay there, her gaze fixed upon the intricately carved ceiling, a myriad of thoughts swirled within her consciousness, refusing to grant her peace.
Belisarius's revelations had ignited a spark of curiosity within her, an unquenchable thirst for knowledge that kept her mind buzzing with questions. However, his abrupt departure only fueled her frustration, leaving her feeling abandoned in a sea of uncertainty. How could he leave her hanging with such profound revelations about the goddess and the mysterious connection that seemed to tie her own soul to that ancient being?
As the crackling fire in the fireplace cast dancing shadows across the room, its soft glow bathing the chamber in a warm ambiance, Rosalind found herself delving into the depths of her thoughts.
