It's in the early hours before dawn, that she feels the prickle that wakes her. A sharpness in her spine, a flicker on the inside of her throat that is cold where her breath is hot.

It is not the first.

She wakes often, half awake in a battle-like state. It is to be expected, Duv tells her often, with his fingers gentle in her hair, and a tiredness in his expression that says he wakes like this more than he will admit too in day break. But this, this is too sharp, her senses ticking loud in her ears, the stillness of Blackwater in her body. Her hand sliding against the blankets along his side where her head rests tucked in next to him, resting where she sleeps deeply, normally. Doesn't lift her hand as she - hears, thinks she hears, knows she hears - the footfalls of someone who is not her husband, is not their children, or their staff that she has become familiar with since he became the Imperial Counselor. Knows every sound and creak of this house, her paranoia never allowed for anything less. Not when it came to her or the children.

"Duv." Said without even the slightest thought he wouldn't be awake too. He is all ways, her other half, this whole other part of herself that moves in an extension of her as she does of him. "Get ready to move to the door."