father-daughter dances are supposed to be more fun

Malachai had sealed the demon — and she had fallen asleep in his arms, cradled like a small child might be. It hadn't been a restful sleep, and even once she'd been tucked into bed in a small but familiar room, she was fitful. Turning and crying out, thrashing, in some instances she'd present with an actual seizure or two.

Novella did not wake, though at one point she tried to attack a healer that was brought in — the demon had broken the seal and taken over; quickly sussed out by the change in demeanor, the brash actions, and the fact that the longer the demon was in control, the more spider-like veins appeared across Novella's flesh.

After that, it was a full twenty-four hours, before Novella woke up again. She wasn't alone, much to her annoyance. A small gaggle of healers were talking in the doorway, it sounded like they were arguing over one-another.

She shifted under the blankets, staring at the group, which quieted once they realized she was awake. Her wrists were in soft restraints, which she didn't realize, until she'd gone to sit up. There was an IV in one of her arms, and if she could've, she would have ripped it out without a thought.

Let me go, she whispered, jerking at the restraints. Thrashing of her own free will, now. Let me go! She screamed, a keening kind of cry that one might expect to hear in the forests late at night.

A healer hurried towards her, pausing to select a vial and a syringe. "Just a sedative," he murmured, as he fiddled with the bag of fluid hanging above her.

@Malachai Valentius