-

Kalasin loves her room—it is a million shades of soothing blue. When there's a light breeze, her curtains flutter, so that they look like rippling ocean waves.

She can see the coastline from her window, and sometimes she even sleeps in the huge, cool marble window seat. It is her only refuge, here. If she turns away from the window, Kalasin can imagine that she is back at home.

Being in her bedchamber makes Kaddar uncomfortable. It is too unfamiliar for him, too foreign. Too light and bright, and there are too many of her things strewn about the furniture and bed.

Kalasin knows that he doesn't like being in here; it's evident by the way he leans against the door separating their rooms awkwardly, watching her secure her light veil over her hair and face. The Empress wonders if she should be offended, but decides that it would be too much trouble. She takes him by the hand and pulls him out of her sanctuary insistently, and he follows.

After all, this is a place for familiar things, loved things, and he is neither. He doesn't belong, and they both know that it is useless to pretend otherwise.

-