Eclipse closed the door to his room with the usual sigh of relief. Finally, some silence. He was ready to get back to brewing questionable potions and regretting his life choices in peace.
Then he froze.
There was something on his bed.
Not something. Someone.
A girl.
She had long, flowing cyan hair that cascaded over his pillow like it owned the place. Her dress was obnoxiously poofy—a flurry of satin, lace, and ruffles that looked more like she had robbed a noble child's dress-up chest than made a conscious fashion decision. And she was sleeping. On his bed.
Eclipse narrowed his eyes. "...What the hell."
The girl stirred, stretched delicately like a cat, and then rubbed her eyes with a soft yawn. When her eyes opened—large, iridescent, and unnaturally round—they locked onto him with a warm familiarity.
"Ah, my Lord... you have returned."
Eclipse blinked.
My Lord?
He glanced behind him, half expecting Silva to burst in with a 'Gotcha!' prank. Nothing.
