By the time Caelith arrived at the embroidery house, the sun had already risen high.
Yet throughout the morning, she found herself distracted, her thoughts unsettled, as though some unseen weight pressed upon her heart.
"Lady Emberlyn, is something troubling you today?" The voice of Lucas Ostenton came from the doorway.
She looked up to see him standing there, a small plate of pastries in his hands.
"It's nothing," she replied, lowering her gaze as she resumed her stitching. "I simply did not sleep well."
Lucas stepped inside and set the plate upon the table.
"All the more reason to eat something," he said gently. "These are freshly made honey cakes from the kitchen. Do try them."
Caelith looked at the plate, her thoughts stirring with quiet complexity.
"Lord Ostenton, there is no need for you to bring these every day—"
