Between our hands

Chapter 33: The Promises of the Morning.

The next morning, an unusual silence hung over the palace, a silence filled with a sense of serenity, as if the commotion of the past days had given way to a deep and restorative calm. Maëlle woke slowly, her heavy eyelids opening with difficulty to the soft light filtering through the velvet curtains of her room. It was still early, and despite her accumulated fatigue, she felt a strange, soothing energy, as if nature itself was offering her a well-deserved respite.

The room, vast and elegant, was bathed in the golden and orange hues of the sunrise. The window drapes, finely embroidered with floral patterns, caught the first rays of light, which diffused gently onto the walls. Maëlle lay in bed for a few moments, watching the shadows dance on the vaulted ceiling, her mind still clouded by the events of the previous day.

She finally sat up, stretching slowly as her muscles protested slightly. The night had been short, marked by tumultuous thoughts that had kept her awake long after she had gone to bed. But beyond the physical fatigue, it was an emotional exhaustion that weighed on her. The death of the man for whom she had developed a certain affection, the unexpected revelations about her inheritance, the growing tension around the responsibilities that now fell upon her... all of it formed a relentless whirlwind in her mind, leaving her in a state of confusion and mental fatigue.

A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. Before she could respond, the door opened gently to reveal Nahïa, her face radiant despite the early hour. She wore a light linen dress, perfectly tailored to her slender figure, and her wavy black hair cascaded over her shoulders.

“Good morning, Maëlle. I brought you some tea,” she said with a soft smile, placing a silver tray on the small table near the bed. “You didn’t sleep very well, did you?”

Maëlle shook her head with a faint smile. She always appreciated Nahïa’s attentiveness, her ability to sense when she wasn’t well without needing to ask. Her gestures were always filled with gentleness, like a light breeze that soothed invisible wounds.

“You already know the answer,” she replied, taking the steaming cup Nahïa handed her. The warmth of the tea gave her a moment of comfort. “Too many things on my mind. And you?”

Nahïa shrugged, sitting on the edge of Maëlle’s bed. “I slept a little better than you, I guess. Louis snored all night again, but I’m used to it now.” She let out a light laugh, then resumed in a more serious tone. “I was thinking... maybe we could take a walk in the gardens this morning. You need to get out a little, get some fresh air. What do you think?”

Maëlle hesitated for a moment. The idea of leaving the room, of facing the outside world after everything that had happened, seemed both appealing and frightening. But the kind insistence in her sister’s gaze finally convinced her. “Okay, a little walk. It will probably do me some good.”

A little later, after dressing in a light white silk dress, Maëlle joined Nahïa and Louis in the palace gardens. The sun was still low in the sky, casting long shadows on the paved garden paths, and the fresh air carried the subtle scent of blooming roses and lilacs. The morning dew made every leaf, every petal, glisten as if the entire garden emanated a soft, comforting light. Maëlle took a deep breath as she stepped through the large palace doors, letting the fresh air fill her lungs and soothe her thoughts.

“Look at these flowers, how beautiful they are this morning,” said Nahïa, her fingers lightly brushing a rosebush in full bloom. “It’s as if nature itself decided to lift your spirits.”

Maëlle couldn’t help but smile. Nahïa’s comment, as simple as it was, held a comforting truth. In this peaceful setting, surrounded by the tranquil beauty of the gardens, she felt her heart gradually lighten, as if the weight of the past days was beginning to dissipate.