Elara sat on the edge of the bed, watching Amara sleep. In the low, dim light of the hotel room, everything seemed softer, more vulnerable. Amara's breathing was even, her face relaxed, a stark contrast to the tension she usually carried. This Amara was different from the woman she'd known before. Completely different.
Elara brushed a lock of hair from her own face, biting her lip. She hadn't wanted to admit it not even to herself, at first. But after tonight, she was certain. The Amara in front of me isn't the same Amara from before. Not the same one who'd once made her life a living nightmare, who'd schemed and manipulated, who had been fixated on Eirik as if her life depended on him. No, this Amara the one sleeping peacefully beside her couldn't be the same person.
She's… someone else entirely.
