The light of dawn streamed through the windows, softened and tinted by pink curtains.
It bathed the room in a gentle glow, illuminating the artistic decor—ceiling murals painted with care and a grand chandelier crafted entirely from glass.
Near the window sat a study table, flanked by bookshelves and cushioned chairs that invited quiet reflection.
Between two wardrobes stood a large oval mirror, its wooden frame carved with exquisite detail, radiating an air of luxury.
A thick carpet made from the hide of an organic beast stretched across the floor, plush and inviting beneath bare feet.
And finally, behind the thin curtains of the canopy bed, a vague figure rested, shrouded in soft mystery.
"There's still no news from him…"
Dahlia softly whispered while staring at the ceiling, her feet rising and falling in a quiet, lazy motion.
