My head was spinning, awareness returning slowly as I blinked my eyes open. I found myself lying on the cold marble floor, my cheek pressed against the unforgiving stone. What happened? Had I fainted?
Pushing myself up on trembling arms, I tried to orient myself. I was still in the lavish chamber Damian had assigned me, but something was different. The air felt... charged, as if a storm were brewing indoors.
"Careful now, little one. You shouldn't move too quickly."
That voice—I knew that voice. It belonged to the strange old woman with the pitch-black eyes who had appeared in my room. The woman who had called me princess.
I turned my head, wincing at the sharp pain that shot through my temples. There she stood, just a few feet away, her hunched form draped in that strange, shifting cloak that seemed made of shadows rather than fabric.
"Who are you?" I asked again, my voice hoarse.
