Chapter Twenty-six & a half *NEW*

CONTENT ADVISORY / TRIGGER WARNING

THIS NOVEL CONTAINS DEPICTIONS/STRONG IMPLICATIONS OF THE FOLLOWING THAT SOME READERS MAY FIND OFFENSIVE OR DISTURBING:

~ ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIPS

Gaalin woke that following morning with an aching headache, one that made him wish to remain indoors and away from the sunlight for the remainder of the new day. He clutched his temples, rubbing his scalp through his hair as he recalled the nights dream. A dream about Libelle.

He glanced beside himself, feeling the unfamiliar warmth beside him in the bed and stared down at the woman still slumbering beside him. Her thin arm was stretched over his waste, a faint smile on her slumbering lips. He smirked, tracing his fingers over her back to her neck, tracing the outline of the bruising from the play. The bruising that mirrored the imprint of his hands tight around her neck. If he stayed, he was sure to repeat the nights adventures, he would then tell her he was quite satisfied, and then he would leave her. Except he had to leave now otherwise the inn keeper was sure to come knocking on his door.

So he stood slowly as to not cause the bed to creak and snap. Collecting his clothes, he dressed hastily and retrieved the promised coin from his satchel, flicking the gold onto the pillow beside the woman and exiting the room. Briefly stopping at the table where the inn keep sat paging through his ledger, he thanked the man for the evenings festivities and then left.

He stepped outside the inn, into the busy streets of the morning market where the sun shone brightly. Gaalin sighed, and then glanced upwards. Over the numerous houses, the city walls, and towards the largest mountain where Uppsala resided. Where Libelle had traveled to alone, leaving him behind. Storm clouds had appeared over the peak of the mountain, dark gray clouds swirling about with bolts of lightning shining against the clouds dark surfaces.

"My dear Libelle," he whispered to himself. "Please be safe."