When Nyrielle opened the heavy, iron-bound door to her bed chambers, she carried Ashlynn across the threshold as though she was carrying a newlywed bride, refusing to set her down until they'd reached the center of the opulent space.
On the far wall, a fire crackled merrily in the hearth, filling the air with the faint scent of cedar woodsmoke that accompanied a warmth that was rare this far beneath the ground. Previously, on the occasions that Ashlynn visited Nyrielle's bed chambers, the flames in the hearth had only burned long enough to take some of the chill from the air. A few hours of a burning fire could only do so much to push back the chill that seeped from the stones themselves after all.
Now, however, the entire chamber felt warm and inviting, as if the fire had been kept burning for several days until the stone walls of the chamber themselves were no longer cold to the touch.
