Aya woke up to find a wool blanket tucked carefully around her body and the earthy smell of fragrance from dried herbs.
Aya blinked.
The ceiling above her was low, made of dark wooden beams. Bundles of dried plants hung from hooks near the wide windows where pale light filtered through. The room was a bit big and looked somewhat luxurious with a moderate sized bed, large windows and two shelves crammed with beautiful jars of different sizes and colours.
There was also a wooden table and chair beside one of the shelves.
This was not her estate.
Aya sat up slowly and immediately regretted it. Pain pulsed through her skull in a thick, nauseating wave before immediately disappearing as fast as it had appeared.
'What the…'
Her fingers found a swollen lump on the top of her head that throbbed when she touched it.
"Ow," she hissed, wincing.
The last thing she remembered was running through the streets, turning a corner, and then—
Something hitting her head. Hard.
Then nothing.
