In the dim light filtering through the heavy drapes of Carl's chamber, Amelia lay tangled in the bed linens, her face flushed, her body completely drained.
Clothes lay strewn across the floor, scattered like the aftermath of a storm, while the bed itself bore signs of a relentless onslaught, sheets twisted, pillows crushed, the once-pristine bedding now a rumpled mess. It had been days since she'd seen anything beyond these four walls, days of being called back and forth to serve Prince Carl's every whim.
Amelia's body ached with an exhaustion she could scarcely articulate, every muscle heavy and leaden, her skin sensitive even to the brush of the linen sheets.
She tried to open her eyes, but they resisted, weighed down with fatigue.
Though fully awake, she felt a numbness that prevented her from moving. This was not the sweet exhaustion she'd sometimes felt before after their encounters, this was something deeper, a weariness that seeped into her bones.
