As the cloth blocking the entrance was lifted, a bright ray of light poured into the dark tent.
“Your Highness.”
Owen slowly opened his eyes at the low voice calling him.
“…Alisha?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Is it already morning?”
“Yes, Your Highness. You must hurry. Today is the day of the Great Tribal Council of Barsha, isn’t it?”
Harvest Thanksgiving Festival!
Owen, suddenly alert, sprang up from his bed.
“Alisha, when did I fall asleep?”
“When I brought dinner last night, you were already asleep in bed.”
“…Is that so?”
Owen frowned.
It was strange. He hadn’t been that tired yesterday, yet he couldn’t remember anything before going to bed.
He remembered spreading out the map of the south and pondering various things about the Great Tribal Council late into the night.
On top of the map, there was even the black rabbit eye mask he had taken/charted off.
“Sleeping without the eye mask, I must have been out of my mind. At least I didn’t have a nightmare…”
Fortunately, he didn’t feel too bad. Though he couldn’t remember, it seemed like he had a rather happy dream.
Owen ran his…