A strange night’s sleep

…unsure at first, she’s settled into the routine of the house. a sense of safety, stability. the master and mistress are not demanding, though the mistress seems **** to let her and the master be alone together. but now they are indeed alone. she doesn’t mean to make eye contact, but she does, and her heart skips a beat. he blushes, glances away, but—

some kind of magnetism draws them to each other. unspoken, unspeakable. this is no way for her to behave, no way to repay this hospitality. if they were caught, what would happen? yet what is clearly so wrong feels so right. at the same time they reach out to each other, fingers twining tentatively together. how she wishes he would be the aggressor, take the guilt and responsibility away from her, but they are equal co-conspirators, and she cannot deny what she craves. The warmth of his body now pressed against hers…

—!?

With a start, Lux sits upright. She clutches the bedclothes to herself, the imagery of her dream still swirling in her head. Memories muzzily swim back to her, of Vernus and Holly leading her to this room, urging her to rest…

She’s slept. She must have slept. She’s in bed. She feels…better than before. Some of the deep soreness in her joints and muscles has eased away. Certainly beats sleeping on a cold beach. Although the dream has also left her feeling warmed up in a whole other way.

The room in which she’s awoken is small and fairly plain, but – like everything else here – deeply comfortable somehow. She could curl back up in this bed and sleep forever; its warmth and softness feel so good, and even its length is just right for her height. As is the charmingly cracked mirror hung on the wall, and she has her suspicions that the clothes left out for her will follow the same pattern. The early light of morning filters in lazily through the window.

The feeling of home is strong. The colours, the angles, the dimensions, the little eccentric details of the rough-hewn masonry. Elements that are just so familiar, even though she’s spent only one exhausted night here. Hasn’t she…?

How she got here from the living room is also vague in Lux’s head. A left turn, and then a right? All she knows is that there’s no way this room should fit within the cottage’s outward dimensions. She’s almost sure this room didn’t exist before the illusion around her needed it to.

Speaking of fitting within dimensions… With some effort, she pries herself from the cosy embrace of her bed and turns her attention to the dress laid out on the rickety bedside table. It’s made of a light brown wool that feels surprisingly soft against her skin. She has to hold her breath to squeeze herself into it, but once on, it fits her almost too snugly, like a glove, like…

…like the repairs Willow made to her old clothes…

She shakes herself, trying to concentrate. It’s nice to have something to wear, at least. And at least while she was getting dressed, Minn wasn’t there to spy on—

That stray thought from earlier hits home like a bolt from the blue. Minn! Where did Lux last see them? Outside the vine barrier? Why didn’t they follow? Or even say anything? How hasn’t she noticed?

Up until now, she’s been thinking she can see through the illusion. But now she realises it’s found its way inside her head. What other perceptions, memories, are being changed? If she stays here, will she forget all about the outside world…?

The outside! The way out! That’s why she’s here! The nereid brought her here for a reason! She has to find the way!

Clutching her hands to her chest for fear that the dress’s delicate bodice will explode if put under any undue strain, she hurries from the room. Vernus or Holly, one of them must know how she can escape this accursed place. She’s so close…