Pain greeted Xaviere before full consciousness returned to his mind. A dull ache throbbed relentlessly behind his eyes while his bruised knuckles burned beneath fresh medical gauze.
He opened his eyelids slowly, gradually recognizing his private master suite through the pale morning light filtering between the silk drapes. His dark eyes shifted across the room, instantly noticing Zeraida sitting quietly in an armchair near the window.
She rested one leg over the other, completely absorbed in reading the television script she had abandoned late the previous evening.
"You are finally awake," she remarked smoothly, turning a page without lifting her focus from the paper.
Xaviere attempted to push himself up into a sitting position, resting his back against the headboard. His head immediately protested the sudden movement, sending a sharp pulse of pressure through his temples.
"What occurred last night?" he demanded, his voice raspy from disuse.
