Diara jolted awake, her body tense as if still expecting Kellan's shadowed form looming beside her.
She blinked, her heart racing, and checked the clock on the wall. Her stomach sank—11 a.m. She'd never slept so late, not once since living in this house.
Panic surged through her; she hadn't completed her morning duties, and in a house as strict as Kellan's, a mistake like this could have severe consequences.
Quickly, she splashed her face with cold water, hoping it would erase the last remnants of drowsiness and the lurking sense of dread that tightened her chest.
Hurrying down the stairs, she clutched the banister tightly, bracing herself for the usual sharp reprimand from the maids. She fully expected one of them to point out her tardiness with a harsh shove or mocking smirk.
