Elia was bloody exhausted. Kaelyn Stark. Kaelyn fucking Stark. She should have Syrah's head for that. Elia's steps were slow but she made it to her room, abandoning the guards at the door. It was hardly into the day and yet she was resigned. If the assassin wanted to kill her right now she wouldn't fuss.
She leaned on the doorway for a moment as another one of the dizzy spells from the dreamwine passed. Elia stepped into a room somewhat dimmer than usual but thought nothing of it. She dropped her gloves and cloak by the door and was halfway to the table when movement caught her eye. It wouldn't be Kaelyn again. She tried to keep her breathing steady. What the hell did she have guards for? Whas this Dymon teaching her a sharp lesson again?
She turned to face the intruder, who was mostly just a vague shape in the shadows, but didn't trust herself to speak.