“The storm from the night before had left the handrails mounded with snow, and icicles dangled from the eaves. In the light of the nearly full moon everything was so pretty, like a fairy tale. Pulling her cloak tight, Arista lifted the hood such that she looked out through a fur-lined tunnel. Still the cold reached her. She considered going back inside, but she needed to be out. She needed to see the sky. Arista could not sleep. She felt uneasy—restless. Despite her exhaustion, sleeping was near...ly impossible. The nightmares were not a surprise, given what she had gone through. She often woke in the dark, covered in sweat, certain she was still in the dungeon—certain that the sounds of snow blowing against the window were the scratches of a rat named Jasper. Afterward, lying awake brought thoughts of Hadrian. The hours of darkness trapped in that hole had stripped her bare and forced her to face the truth. In Arista’s most desperate moment, her thoughts had turned to him. The mere sound of his voice had saved her, and the thoughts of her own death were extinguished when she feared he was hurt.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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