Angelica welcomed her beloved daughter into the Lowell household with outstretched arms. They hugged briefly. “Ulric, darling.” Ulric kissed Angelica’s gloved hand. “The pleasure is mine.” Angelica blushed and waved him off. “Come now. Supper shall be ready shortly, and I know how hungry thou must be; feeding an extra mouth can be quite the burden.” She began to saunter toward the dining hall, her heeled shoes click-clacking against the wooden flooring. Daciana frowned. “Mother, our child is not a burden.” Angelica halted, then turned around. “Oh, dear, that is not what I meant. Thou art absolutely glowing, and being heavy with child suits thee well.” Daciana was not wholly convinced by her mother’s absent apology, but she decided it best to keep her thoughts to herself. “Tell me,” Angelica continued on, “has there been any news of thy brother, Ulric?” She gestured toward Ulric and Daciana’s seats at the dining table. “I am afraid not,” Ulric responded, as he sat down next to Daciana.
