Elgon swirled the wine in his cup as he watched Adala politely sipping at hers.
The poor girl looked even smaller and thinner in nothing but her wool dressing gown, and Elgon's heart ached to see her like this. Last night, she'd carried the weight of her family's honor and legacy when she stood up to denounce her father's corrupt dealings with the Inquisition, and this morning she'd faced the hammer blows of taking her father's place at Lady Ashlynn's table and becoming the first person to receive a private audience with the new marchioness.
It was a lot for a woman of any age, to say nothing of one who had only recently come of age. Despite that, someone had stirred her heart enough that she'd raced back to her chambers to dress up for them on the very day that Lady Ashlynn had granted her freedom to marry as she chose.
