Jasper had gone through his obligatory sneezes after entering his wife’s pungent-smelling chamber, now standing near the door in his usual place whilst Rosamund remained over on her bed, her usual place. He could see her outline through the sheer panels of curtain, silhouetted by a taper on the other side of her bed. The faint illumination gave her a surreal, other-worldly quality. “I have,” she said. “Thank you for coming so quickly.” Putting aside the sewing she had been working on, Rosamund rose laboriously from her bed. Her maid was there to help her, gently steadying the woman as she stood, and then releasing her so that Rosamund could shuffle over to where her husband was. Jasper watched his wife come around the bed. “I came quickly because I assume you wish to tell me of your conversation with Kathalin,” he said, sounding impatient. “You spoke with the woman three days ago and have yet to tell me the results of that conversation.