Miri's Pov
The room wasn't exactly cramped, but it felt like it was breathing on us.
The walls, dull stone and faintly damp, curved inward like they didn't appreciate being inhabited. I could hear the wood of the ceiling creak softly every so often, not from the wind—there was none—but from something else. Age, maybe. Or memory.
Still, it wasn't that bad of a place to share.
The room was a little smaller than mine back at the fortress, but the three of us had been used to sleeping on top of each other—literally—whenever Uncle Lucian wasn't too strict on the "separation builds character and control." It didn't. But we respected it anyway. When he wasn't strict, we'd huddle and cuddle together in one of our rooms till morning.
So this was nothing.
