They all scrambled to get out of the room.
In the hallway, the Captain of the Royal Guard, his face pale and sweating, did not dare to look back. He gestured frantically to his men. "Go! Make sure you find him! Don't let him escape! Move!" He and his soldiers thundered down the hallway, their retreat a clattering, and deeply embarrassed scramble.
Senna was left standing alone in the empty, carpeted hallway. She stared at the broken door, the door to her private, inner sanctuary. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging so deeply into her palms that she almost drew blood.
She had heard it all.
She had heard his voice, the deep, furious, passionate roar of the Grand Duke, a sound of a man interrupted. She had heard her voice, the high, fake, and disgustingly intimate cry of pleasure. And she had seen the shadows on the curtain, the two figures locked together, inseparable.
