As Chandrima roused, she registered three things in succession. First, that she was on the floor. Second, that her corset was terribly uncomfortable in this position. And finally, that there was a man holding her head off the floor. As she blinked her brown eyes open, her vision was unfocused for a moment, but after that moment, she quickly realized the man holding her head up was not one she knew — at least, not well. She vaguely recognized him from her dorm some years before, but she didn't recall his name. "Thank you," she uttered.

A beat later, her eyes found her worried sister, and she forced herself to shift into a sitting position. "Is he gone?" she asked, referring to the deranged footman.

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