Cithara's Dream

A soft breeze carried across the cloud tops through the crystal halls of Duncan's senate towers where Cithara lay across a deep red chaise in her private chambers. She clutched one of Tilford's crimson dress jackets to her like a security blanket while she slept lightly and fitfully. Anymore, Cithara rarely slept, but when she did, it was only for a few moments at a time.

"Ye need to rest, Love. Let me take care of some things." Like so many times before, she could hear his voice, and feel his hands stroking her hair.

"Tilford?" And like so many times before, she awoke abruptly expecting to see him, but he was never there.