Each step carried them farther apart, and she found herself dreading each step. She would never see Marcus again; life was too uncertain and the distances too far in the hazardous world the Saxons had invented for them. She had just said good-bye to someone she had loved longer than memory, and she would never see him again. Her heart struggled to beat. Her eyes wept without permission. Her mind told her with each breath that she had done the right thing. Made the right choice. But her heart wept tears of blood, regardless. As slowly as she moved, the villa appeared before her anyway. Home. She lived in a home full of strangers. Except for Wulfred. Wulfred she trusted in the way she trusted that a boat would float and that wood would burn. He waited for her in the courtyard, looking somewhat grim. In fact, he wore much the same expression as when she had first seen him, peering down at her lying on the floor of the library, gasping for cool air. He could not be irritated because she had arisen and left their chamber before he did; he had done the same to her the day before.
