Liria rubbed her temples, trying to shake off the pounding ache that had settled behind her eyes. Something felt off. She had felt it ever since they returned to the castle. A strange tension, like an itch beneath her skin that she couldn't quite scratch.
She sat in her room, legs crossed on the massive, overstuffed armchair near the fireplace. The flames crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the dark stone walls. Outside, the night stretched endlessly, the faint glow of the twin moons barely piercing the thick clouds.
Ananara was perched on the windowsill, staring at her. Judging her, as always.
"You're restless," the pineapple finally said, its sharp voice cutting through the silence.
Liria rolled her eyes. "No kidding. Maybe it's because I'm processing the fact that we almost died in a dungeon full of nightmare creatures. Or maybe it's because Enara's parents looked at me like I was about to sprout a second head."
