Cleo slept deeply on the nice soft bed, remembering before she fell asleep to change clothes, and she laid her daggers on the bed beside her, too weary to move up to the top of the bed and put them on the night stand there.
She had soon fallen asleep, curled up almost like a cat, using her hands for pillows, again too weary, or maybe just too lazy to move up and grab one.
She slept soundly, not waking up for a while. When she woke, she blinked, looking around. She was lsightly confused, normally waking in the bare, dark walls of an inn. She glanced about, frowning, before remembering where she was.