It feels like I'm walking through a fog, everything around me blurring, spinning. My body betrays me with every shaky step I take. I tighten my grip on my cane, the only thing keeping me from collapsing to the floor in this damnable state.
My body's on fire—pulsing, throbbing. There's no way I'm in rut. Not now. Not like this.
Just this morning, I was fine. Completely fine. This… this is wrong. My mind is racing, piecing together what might have happened. The tea—the only thing I've had since breakfast. The only difference between now and earlier was my meeting with the king and Count Raymond.
I stagger forward as a sudden clarity cuts through the haze. So, they're really that desperate? Desperate enough to pull this kind of shit on me? A low, bitter laugh escapes my lips, but it dies the second I open the door to the room I was sent to.
The scent of heat hits me like a freight train, overwhelming my senses. My head clears, but for all the wrong reasons.
No cheating troupe here, I'd rather kill off my characters tbh