At the Landis Palace, Cecilia could feel the changes in those around her growing more apparent with each passing day. The most striking was the fact that Damian returned to his chamber less and less often. And when he did, it was only for the briefest of moments—just to check on her.
Cecilia had tried to draw answers from him. Yet, every time she asked, Damian would simply hold her gaze for a long moment, smile faintly, and insist that everything was fine.
But Cecilia knew better. His words were nothing more than lies. She wasn't blind to the restless expressions of the servants who occasionally came to attend Damian, nor to the tense, almost pallid face of Sir Lenton, who brought her meals every day and looked as if he were carrying a burden too heavy to speak of.
