Despite her mother's numerous recitations of Martin Greer's brilliant reception at the Southwark Theater when Amethyst was very young, at first sight nothing about the city was at all familiar. Her eyes wide, Amethyst missed nothing in her avid perusal of the passing streets. The city was obviously huge, many of the buildings graciously constructed of brick, the streets bustling with people despite the frigid temperatures. The further they progressed from the docks, the better dressed the pedestrians appeared to become, with many of the women wearing extremely fashionable at tire. More conscious than ever of her own ridiculous appearance in the oversized man's cape and ludicrous stocking cap, Amethyst drew back further into the corner of the carriage, her concentration on the sights outside the window interrupted only briefly.Sitting beside her, his own attention intent on the myriad of emotions passing over the face of the beautiful child/woman at his side, Damien frowned. Why had she drawn back so furtively into the corner of the carriage?
