From The Grey House, Book One:
She dreamt the dream about once a week since she returned to the area. She was lying in a large canopied bed. The fabric draped around the bed was deep crimson giving everything, including her skin, a blood red hue. The curtains parted and a man handed her a goblet telling her it was time to rise. He called her child every time. It had been slightly menacing since she had never seen his face. The voice was his. She was sure of it.