Paused there in the hall, Anne opened her mouth but then faltered, her expression going pinched as she glanced around them. They were alone but still she felt terribly exposed. Seizing Aramis' hand, she drew him swiftly to the end of the corridor where she opened an ivory-colored door with a golden 'A' wrought into the wood instead of a number.
"I apologize for the abruptness," she said once she'd closed the door behind them and fastened the lock. "Even here I can't help but wonder who is lurking and listening."
The room was vast and gilded, much like her rooms at home, with a canopied bed at the far end and a sitting area nearer the door. She clasped hold of Aramis' hand again and drew him inside.
"I am not 37," she explained, brow furrowed as she looked up at him. "And I lost only one child, not four. This book— This history, it is accurate in accounting everything else of my life. Yet it says that I was so long in becoming pregnant that all hope for an heir was lost, so much so that the conception was considered a miracle from God."
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"I apologize for the abruptness," she said once she'd closed the door behind them and fastened the lock. "Even here I can't help but wonder who is lurking and listening."
The room was vast and gilded, much like her rooms at home, with a canopied bed at the far end and a sitting area nearer the door. She clasped hold of Aramis' hand again and drew him inside.
"I am not 37," she explained, brow furrowed as she looked up at him. "And I lost only one child, not four. This book— This history, it is accurate in accounting everything else of my life. Yet it says that I was so long in becoming pregnant that all hope for an heir was lost, so much so that the conception was considered a miracle from God."