THIRTY-SIX
Sophia spied his approach from behind the emerald green curtain of the front room. She hovered in the shadows; the remnants of candlelight from the back room and the reflection of the moonlight off the canal provided the sole illumination in the chamber. The chamber’s finely crafted furniture appeared like boulders in the gloom, lumpy and formless. In the distance, she heard the murmured prayers of her family, their pleas to God punctuated by their sobs and sniffles. She ran to the door before the squire rapped upon its surface, before his tapping disturbed the peace of their neighbors.
The sleepy youth flinched as the portal burst open, his fisted hand raised, stumbling as his momentum continued forward with no surface to connect with.
“You have a message for me? For Sophia
