She could have occupied one of the benches but the day had turned cold as the sun had dropped and she didn’t relish the idea of being by the hole in the wall. She shuddered and drew her cloak around her. The fire cast great shadows about the room. Were she on her own she would be quite terrified. The ominous black creatures danced upon the wall, turning the few stone carvings into ugly beasts. Several large candles were impaled on spikes about the hall but to her that simply added to the sinister effect. Her heart ached for her comfortable home with its elegant candelabras and bright tapestries. She glanced at the woman beside her, Gwen, who had taken on the role of her lady-in-waiting. The dark-haired woman was sweet and gentle but Rosamunde missed her friends. Huffing a breath, she offered the woman a smile. They were about the same age. Was she not meant to be proving to herself—and everyone else—she was stronger than she appeared?
