Blaize always waited to be invited in. It was a principle of hers, a quiet respect for the privacy of others. So, when Sekenw did not respond after several soft but audible knocks, a thread of worry began to unwind within her.
The sun had recently set, casting a deep blue twilight through the high windows. It was a half hour until dinner, and Blaize had come bearing a gift: an old novel from her personal library, returned by a reading club member and sha instantly thought of Selene.
Holding the book to her chest, she finally turned the knob and pushed the door open. The moment she stepped inside, she froze.
About fifteen candles formed a flickering circle on the floor. And in the center, Selene was kneeling. Or rather, she was crumpled, her form limp as if she had collapsed mid-thought.
