The servants' quarters had never felt smaller than they did when Willow returned to her room.
She was grateful for the solitude because she couldn't bear the thought of facing anyone else right now.
She moved mechanically, setting down the basket of linens that she'd been carrying around like some sort of shield.
Her hands were trembling as she began to undress, preparing for a shower that she hoped might wash away some of the pain, even though she knew it was futile.
She turned the water as hot as she could bear and stepped under the spray, letting it cascade over her head and down her body.
The heat should have been soothing, but all she could think about was what she was about to do.
Was she making the right decision?
The question echoed in her mind as she mechanically washed her hair. Magnus thought she was crazy. Maybe she was.
What woman in her right mind would agree to such a degrading arrangement? To be used for breeding and then discarded like she meant nothing?
