Resignation.
He resigned.
The person she was familiar with to the point of being almost a stranger, the one who would only nod slightly each time they met and say, "Miss Hastings", the person she thought would always stand in the White Hall office, forever dressed in an elegant black suit, forever keeping a perfectly appropriate distance from her...
Resigned...
"Miss." The old butler's voice sounded in Flora's ear: "Would you like to go back inside? It's cold outside, your hands are freezing."
Flora lowered her head and looked at her hands.
Those hands were clutching the fringes of her shawl so tightly that her knuckles were white.
She loosened her grip, allowing the blood to slowly flow back, feeling a pricking sensation at her fingertips.
She raised her head and looked at the old butler: "Where is he?"
"In the main hall, miss, the elderly lady is accompanying him."
Flora hadn't even finished listening before she began to move.
But after just two steps, she stopped.
