~Alora~

It had been three weeks since I'd been allowed out of my bedchamber, and the ritual was as automatic as sunrise. Wake to the gentle creaks of uncertain footsteps down the hallway. Breakfast served by Elena, who posed the same uncertain questions on how I was, what I was doing, did I have a want. A strictly chaperoned visit to the gardens or drawing rooms, ever with Marcus or one of the other guards tactfully hovering in the background. Dinner in the formal dining hall, where ...