Bab 70: Chapter Seventy

The warm afternoon sun streamed through the sheer curtains, casting golden hues across the room where Ariana lay. Her eyes shot open, the dim light of the room illuminating her dazed expression as she slowly regained consciousness. The bedsheets clung to Ariana like a second skin, heavy with the afternoon's heat. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead, a testament to the intensity of her nap, she blinked groggily, trying to shake off the haze of sleep.

Her fingers grappled with the tangled bedsheets, attempting to cast them aside for some relief from the stifling heat. She struggled with the bedsheets, frustration mounting as they resisted her efforts.

"Why does this always happen?" she muttered to herself, her fingers working furiously to free the fabric from its twisted state, her movements growing increasingly agitated. With each tug and twist, she grew more determined to conquer the stubborn fabric, her brow furrowing in concentration.