Morning light crept in through the port-hole. Rachael watched it crawling down the far wall of the bedroom. She’d spent most of the night tossing and turning, the sheets too warm, the mattress too soft. Sick of lying in bed with only her own gnawing anxiety buzzing away at the back of her brain, she finally pulled the covers aside and got to her feet. Sifting through the clothes that Arsha had left in her cupboard, she found a practical looking pair of brown trousers and a plain white tunic.
Feeling less conspicuous than she had in the brightly coloured silks she’d been wearing yesterday, Rachael decided that she might as well try to find something to eat. She slipped out into the corridor and made her way up towards the mess hall. Continue reading