By Emil Terziev
The rays of the early morning sun applied gentle but persistent pressure to Kinzoku’s eyelids, making her face twitch. By reflex in her resting state, she brought her left hand up to scratch it. The stretching box hit her instead, jolting her out of her sleep with a sharp pain. The girl rubbed her forehead against her shoulder to dull it, and let out a light giggle. It wasn’t the first time she’d delivered an accidental blow to her own head in the morning.
She looked out the window and tried to guess the time by the position of the sun’s disk relative to the Hakkoda mountains to the East. It was barely an hour after sunrise. It was not often that one of the servants would part the drapes and let the sun wake Kinzoku this early in the day. There must be news of approaching forces. Today would be a preparation day.