"I am sorry for your loss," Circe said at last, her tone sincere. "Truly. It could not have been easy to endure something like that."
"Thank you," Mirelle replied, meaning every word. She lowered her head once more. "Your Highness is most kind."
"That will be all for now," Circe said, dismissing her at last. She rose from the bed and moved past Mirelle, crossing the chamber toward the round table where her tea sat untouched. She reached for the cup, then paused, a thought striking her.
Without turning back, she added, "Inform the kitchen staff that I will be taking breakfast with His Highness."
***
Casilo barely felt the cold anymore.
The wind blew cold air and frost bit at his skin and seeped through his clothes, but the sensation registered only dimly, like something happening far away. His focus had narrowed to the steady gait of his horse beneath him and the pressure of his hand clamped over the makeshift bandage around his torso.
