Aurora sat by the window, her eyes drifting toward the quiet sky. Since that dreadful night, she had scarcely moved from the chamber. She was glad she had at last kept her promise to her mother, yet the sorrow of all she had lost weighed deep upon her heart.
She sighed, blinking back the tears that rose when Bathsheba came to mind. If only she had found it in her heart to forgive sooner. At the sound of the door opening, Aurora stirred, and turning, she met Stephen's gentle gaze.
"You are awake," he said softly as he stepped into the room. "It is the day of Lady Amelia and my aunt's sentencing. You need not come if your strength is spent—you may rest." He crossed to the closet and busied himself there for a while, before stepping out again and making for the door.
Aurora pressed her lips together, then called quietly, "Stephen."
He paused, turning back to her. "Hm?"
Her voice wavered. "Are you alright?"
He blinked, as though surprised.
