Aurora's mind raced, trying to process everything she had just learned. She wasn't sure what to think or feel. Then, she noticed Azrael walking to the side of her bed. He paused and turned to her. "That night you were attacked, did you perhaps remember anything odd?" he asked, raising a brow.
Aurora adjusted her posture, pondering the events of that night, but the more she tried, the more her head hurt. "Other than the men suddenly running off and your presence," she shook her head, "I don't recall anything. Why?" she asked.
A sigh escaped Azrael's lips. "Nothing," he muttered. Azrael reached out and picked up a blanket from the bed. All the while, Aurora watched him closely. When he started making the bed, she couldn't help but ask, "What are you doing?"
Azrael turned to face her, a quizzical look on his face. "I am making the bed," he said matter-of-factly. "Is that not what one does when it is time for sleep?"
