The gray light of dawn was just filtering in through the windows as Rosette started to wake. Her limbs felt heavy, her head felt foggy as she fought to open her eyes through the last vestiges of the sleep spell that Mafrea had hit her with before he had left. She had been dozing lightly just before, trying to stem off the dizziness and headache that came with using her own very miniscule aether manipulation abilities to halt Jun’s aetherflow.

She opened her eyes, looking at the semi-lit room. Her dreams had been plagued with an inky darkness that had flooded the room, threading its way up around Mafrea’s limbs as he had taken a long drag of a cigar. The smoldering tip of it had been the only light in the room as the dripping shadows had hovered over him, a skeletal reaper with a long scythe dangling just over his left shoulder. The Thaumaturge’s skin had started to wither, become pockmarked in the ink that dripped from the creature hovering over him. She had tried to call out to him, to warn him...but her voice had been stolen as the darkness washed up over her and dragged her into the abyss. 

Then, wakefulness had started to creep in and drag her out of slumber.

Rose didn’t have the energy to move and simply remained as she was, the bench only slightly uncomfortable. She knew her back and shoulders would be stiff and sore later, but she just...couldn’t bring herself to move.

Last night had been difficult with Jun’s possession rearing it’s ugly head, worrying about the team that Arik took to discover what the hell was happening with her caravans, and the fall out that happened between Emeline and Mafrea. She cringed and lifted a hand to run over her face as she recalled the Conjurer yelling at Mafrea, partially revealing that Rosette felt more than what their familial bond was. Luckily, the mage likely missed it as he was so focused on Emeline and her lack of control.

Then, there was the news that Anhashy delivered about the Garleans not truly being Garleans. They were hired thugs paid to target her shipments, intent on destroying her. She knew she had upset some people with her bravado and blunt dealings, but actual enemies that would strike out? She supposed it would happen sooner or later, she thought as she shifted a little to relieve the pressure on her right hip. Still, she had felt oddly vulnerable.

Perhaps it was because she was so depleted from aiding Jun? Manipulating someone’s aether was an incredibly difficult task for a seasoned professional...much less a novice stumbling through it based on another’s notations. She had wanted to ask Mafrea to stay on the ship instead of taking a walk to get some air. Yet...she let him go. He needed to go do whatever it was he did when the rage was close to breaching the surface. His need was greater than her own.

Rose closed her eyes, once more trying to talk herself into getting up and give herself a pep talk. She had paperwork to file, contracts to review, and a meeting to talk with a stained glass and window merchant about setting up shipments to Kugane and Doma. Yet still, she didn’t move.

It wasn’t until the first streaks of sun bathed the ship that she was seen walking away from the Rocinante, shoulders slumped and eyes downcast as she was lost in her own chaotic thoughts. She had more questions than answers after that caravan’s mission and she looked forward to the full report. She had some digging to do.