Well, it had to happen somewhen. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. She nursed at his neck as he peacefully slumbered through being killed. Leaving the library by the same door she had first used to enter it earlier that day, she crossed the two little antechambers and moved on through the rooms. It probably had its own repulsive oubliette in the bottom, where tiny princesses could fall and break their necks. Not fit to be dust on your boots. It is so difficult. “Buon Primomaggio. ’ ‘Yes,’ agreed Lucilla excitedly, ‘and she has been telling us how much of a friend she was to your mother. I have counted you, and always hoped to count you, the best of my friends.
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