Sasha could finally open her eyes. She was in one of the various resting rooms within the Ecclesia. A damp towel rested on her forehead, and her feet were elevated.
She stared at the ceiling of that place.
Decorated. Luxurious.
The paintings on its ceiling were too magnificent for human eyes.
Slowly, she got up, letting the towel fall to the ground, still somewhat dazed.
"Are you feeling better now?" Alphonse stood up and approached her.
Sasha, confused and tired, replied, "I feel a little better, but I still feel unwell."
"It's a hot day today; you could have declined to come if you felt like this," he said with concern. "We don't need to attend the next events if you keep feeling this way."
Sasha smiled to reassure her brother.
"I'm better, I swear. The night is cooler; I won't get sunstroke during the evening," she insisted.
Alphonse sighed.
