Her innocence was maddening. She should know. She should know what her steward had done. She should know it to be her fault whether she’d given the order or not–and whether she knew or not. Innocent? Her? Never.

He did not want her to know. He did not want her to see. But:

Look at me, he found himself thinking furiously at her. Look at me. She lifted her eyes, and did.

Marie Rutkoski