It was disconcerting to say the least. I wiped a hand over my face. I’d only managed a few hours sleep, and those were plagued with nightmares of being chased, or finding Terry dead in Lord Kreios’ parlor. “Good morning, miss.” I sat up and rubbed my face. “Something like that, I suppose.” She didn’t crack a smile. Her eyes didn’t even meet mine, staying locked on the lumps that marked my knees beneath the covers. “Don’t you find being so prim tiring?” I asked, annoyed. “It doesn’t do any good to get attached to one of his lordship’s guests. They never stay long.” A note of defiance crept into her tone. At least she had a backbone under all that snowy, starched white. I grunted and swung my legs over the side of the bed. “That’s something, I guess.” A dress and new under things were draped over a chair next to the fireplace.
