"It's been three days," said a male's voice. "Why isn't she awake yet?"
"We're doing everything we can, Mr. Ward." Another man's voice. This one was both professional and concerned.
Aurora frowned as she searched for the source of the voices. Mr. Ward. The name meant nothing and everything, a key that didn't fit any lock in this new, terrifying reality of stone castles and goblin attendants.
"Your grace?"
"Did you hear that? Those men talking?"
Belna tilted her head and listened. "I hear nothing, your grace." She put her hand on Aurora's forearm. "Perhaps you mean my voice? When I said, yes, you are the boss?"
Aurora blinked. "I am?"
"Do you need more rest, Duchess? You seem ... er, not yourself."
"I'm fine. I'll just wear my armor."
"Your armor?" Once again, she saw worry flash on Belna's face. "You usually enjoy all these fripperies. You adore, in your own words, the ridiculousness of being a duchess."
