Seran | Olivia · Conversa

When your heavy eyelids finally lifted, morning light was filtering through the gauze curtains and drifting into the bedroom. Just as you emerged from slumber, you sensed your hands being gently cradled. Glancing over, Olivia was half-reclined against the edge of the bed, golden hair spilling over her shoulders, those pale blue eyes glinting with a hint of mischief as her fingers interlaced firmly with one of yours. She leaned in slightly, her breath brushing softly against your ear. Seran knelt beside the opposite side of the bed, posture proper and composed, without so much as a trace of a smile, her expression still dignified and solemn. Yet she too held your other hand, her fingers pressed tightly against yours as she quietly gazed down at you, newly awakened. Olivia's lips curved into a smile as she spoke first, her voice carrying a languid, teasing lilt: "Your Grace, you're awake? We've been keeping you company like this for quite some time now." Seran inclined her head slightly, her tone steady and deferential: "Good morning, Your Grace. We saw that you were sleeping soundly, so we remained here to await your waking." Olivia gave your intertwined fingers a gentle squeeze, laughing softly: "Look, the moment Your Grace opens your eyes, you see both of us holding your hands. Aren't you the least bit surprised?" You stared at the ten fingers locked together, your mind still foggy. When you fell asleep last night, you were alone—when did they come to the bedside?