10 June, 1359. St Ivan's Palace, Havietten.
Celia opened her eyes and waited as the velvet canopy over her bed came into focus. The room was still dim but her instincts told her it wasn't far off dawn.
Odd how I can't hear Tobin's snoring, was her first thought. Has he not come to bed yet?
She slowly turned her neck to look at the bed next to her and found it empty. No, Tobin definitely hadn't slept there.
Celia tried sitting up and discovered two things.
The first one was that her left arm was not only heavily bandaged, but if was folded across her chest within a cloth sling.
The second was that moving the arm - or even the fingers on her left hand - sent a wave of pain through her body that made her want to scream.
Celia sifted through her memories of the night before. She remembered the music and the gifts, the ridiculous swan and its white plumage.