She was pleasing to the eye, the girl, dark hair falling in soft waves past her shoulders, framing a face still touched with youth. Her eyes, a striking shade of green, swept briefly over Alpheo, cool and measuring, before drifting away.
She crossed the chamber and lowered herself onto the velvet seat beside her mother. Her posture was impeccable, straight back, folded hands in her lap, head lifted just enough to project dignity.
There was little of that haughty attitude he had seen in the garden.
Alpheo studied her closely.
She probably had no inkling of what had truly transpired, or what role fate was already weaving for her.
He inclined his head slightly, an almost courtly acknowledgment. Whether she realized it or not, she was to be the key to both their future.
"Before we dive into matters," Alpheo began, his voice even, "allow me first to express my deepest condolences for your father."
