( december 3rd )

[firegap]

Not once since she awoke, did she dare turn her back on the fireplace, lit and crackling in the cold of December as it was. Her cheeks were burning, her lips felt parched. The tightness of her skin seemed only to worsen.

"By the mercy of God, Lord Rosengaard, your daughter has survived," said the doctor from behind a half-closed door. A ray of golden afternoon sunlight was crawling across the floor and hurt her eyes.

Is it God, then, she thought and inhaled noisily, so her father quickly shut the door to her chambers, who pours spices and fumes down my lungs?

The voices of the two men, debating her future in no certain terms, were now so muted, she couldn't make out any intelligible answer.