(Erin_Goodwin thinks Gabriel's villainy is off the scale? Ooops, thats not his best yet.)
She stepped inside and shut the door softly behind her. The lock clicked automatically.
Isolde let out a long breath and leaned against the door for a moment, finally allowing herself to relax. Her shoes pinched, her dress itched, and her mistress had kept her on edge all day with her mercurial moods and sharp tongue.
The maid crossed the room, passing the tiny round table piled with folded laundry, her travel case. It was bare, but clean. A single bed, a water basin, and an armoire.
Isolde moved to the window and parted the curtains. Blood City still pulsed with life beyond the glass.
She pressed her fingers to the window pane, letting the cold seep into her skin.
She didn't expect the sharp knock that came at her door just seconds later.
Three raps.
She spun around, staring at the door as if it had suddenly come alive. What did she want again? Wont she leave her in peace?
