CHAPTER 123
The palace torches were still burning when Grace returned from the healer's house. Her cloak was damp with the night's mist, her boots heavy with dust from the streets. Mathew walked silently beside her, his jaw tight, but even he did not dare break the silence that hung between them.
The healer's words had lodged deep in Grace's chest. The voice never leaves its chosen.
She entered her chamber and dismissed Mathew with a small wave of her hand. He bowed, reluctant, but obeyed. Alone, Grace sat by the long table where scrolls and ledgers were still scattered from the night before. She stared at them but did not move to touch.
Her reflection in the darkened window stared back. She hardly recognized it. The crown sat heavy on her head, but the shadow beneath her eyes seemed heavier still.
Was Robert only a warning? she wondered. Or am I already walking the same path he did?
