"Same goes for you, my macabre liege," she said. Harrow might have a little more color but that doesn't mean she doesn't look even more like shit than she usually does. And Gideon might be a shit cavalier, but she's not so shit that she can't recognize that tell-tale puffiness around the eyes that means that it's been a fucking while since Harrow let herself rest.

She turns down the blankets and gives the bed an inviting pat, like she was trying to lure over some feral, skittish little creature, which was sort of true.