Lidia had just started to dream about pancakes.
Not just any pancakes, but towering, syrup-drenched stacks of cinnamon swirl pancakes with butter melting in slow, seductive spirals. She was halfway through threatening a very realistic dream-Elisse to hand over a second fork when—
BANG. BANG. BANG.
The door rattled like someone had tried to punch it in.
Lidia jerked upright, heart leaping into her throat. Her limbs thrashed against tangled blankets, and for one glorious second, she had no idea where she was, what century she was in, or why she was wearing yesterday's cloak like a miserable little burrito.
Then—
"My lady, open the door!"
That was Elisse's voice. Very loud, urgent and panicked.
Lidia scrambled out of bed, slamming her shin into the bedpost so hard she actually whimpered. She threw the door open.
Elisse stood there, wild-eyed and breathless, her braid coming undone like it had been through a storm. Or a brawl. Or both.
