Make Things Worse

Zelda

I woke to an empty bed. No Drake. I sighed and rolled over, the sheets cool where his body had been. A sense of loneliness crept over me, like a shadow stretching its dark tendrils across the room. I sat up and ran my fingers through my messy hair. The soft sunlight streamed in through the window, casting dust motes in the air. I let out a long, weary sigh.

I got out of bed, my body stiff from sleeping alone. I stretched my arms overhead, my muscles groaning in protest.

I struggled to my feet, my legs unsteady as I made my way out of the room. I walked down the hall, the cold stone floor chilling my feet. I felt a sense of urgency, a desperate need to find the maid who had revealed something about Zelda to me.

I turned the corner, heading towards the servants' quarters. My heart pounded in my chest, my breath coming in short gasps.

I leaned back against the wall, my head spinning. The nausea returned, twisting my stomach into knots. Was it the medicine? I wondered, my mind raci