Catherine -
I woke to the sound of voices in the corridor—hushed, urgent conversations that carried the particular tension of servants receiving orders they didn't entirely understand. After a night spent on the narrow bed in that stone cell, my body protested every movement, joints stiff from sleeping on a mattress that felt more like penance than comfort.
How long was I meant to stay there? I wondered. Days? Weeks? Until I learned to be grateful for whatever scraps of courtesy Lord MacAllister chose to offer?
The lock turned with a sound that had become familiar overnight—heavy iron mechanisms that spoke of age and purpose and the kind of security that wasn't meant to be bypassed. I sat up on the bed, smoothing my skirts and trying to arrange my features into something approaching com
