The morning began with a soft rain, the kind that feels too gentle for how dirty the world really is. The sky looked pale, heavy, and tired, as if even heaven was trying to wash away the sins that had happened in that bed last night. The water slid down the windows quietly, hitting the glass like a slow reminder that daylight always comes, no matter how much shame tries to hide in the dark.
Even the birds had gone silent. Not one dared to sing. Somewhere outside, the horses probably hid under the stables. The whole chateau seemed to be holding its breath.
Vivienne woke up first.
The sound of rain filled the room, soft and steady. For a moment she forgot where she was. Her eyes blinked open slowly, and everything felt unreal—the gray light, the soft sheets tangled around her, and the warm arm resting heavy around her waist. Then she remembered.
She turned her head slightly. André was asleep beside her.
Her stomach twisted.
