When Daphne woke up again, it was the dead of the night.
She wasn't sure what it was she heard first― was it the rustle of the curtains flapping due to the breeze? Or perhaps it was the sound of a quill against parchment, scribbling down notes after a long day.
There was a bit of light, just that of a small flame placed on the table of the head healer's desk, currently occupied by a man Daphne did not recognize. Beside him, there were two others hovering around the shelves, seemingly taking inventory of the medical supplies.
Daphne blinked once, then twice, then exhaled heavily. She could feel a subtle throb in her lower abdomen, thumping as though she had a bruise that was being constantly pressed on. Yet, she didn't have the strength to sit up and have a look at what was wrong. Instead, she merely raised a hand and rubbed her eyes.
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