The sound of whinnying horses echoed through the manor, carrying from the front gates all the way into nearly every room of the estate. The rhythmic clatter of hooves and the faint grind of carriage wheels over gravel broke through the hush, drawing Circe's attention instantly.
Curiosity stirred within her, coaxing her upright. But the moment she sat up in bed, a sharp wave of dizziness crashed over her, forcing her to grip at the sheets. The room swayed briefly before her eyes, and she pressed a hand to her temple, waiting for the spell to pass.
When it did, she swung her legs off the bed and moved slowly, her bare feet brushing against the soft rug. Her fingers shot out to catch the bedpost as another bout of light-headedness came over her.
Along with her fever, these dizzy spells had become more frequent. They were unpredictable and exhausting, arriving whenever she least expected them.
