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“The Lord Steward summoned Lord James to his study. Joining them were Lord Nimrod, the Consort, and Judith, who stood beside the Consort and stared out the window. A winter sunrise streaked the sky with pink-and-gold light. Judith wrestled with her anguish. This is probably Helen’s last sunrise, and she’s no doubt in some stinking hole and cannot even see it. Lord James paid little heed to anyone else. All he saw was Miriam’s face, her green eyes harsh with accusation. All he heard were her pleas. Do something, James. Save her. Don’t let her die. Thinking he had everyone’s attention, Shinar got to the point. “It seems you have a daughter, James.” — Candace L. Talmadge
The Lord Steward summoned Lord James to his study. Joining
them were Lord Nimrod, the Consort, and Judith, who stood beside
the Consort and stared out the window. A winter sunrise streaked the
sky with pink-and-gold light. Judith wrestled with her anguish. This is
probably Helen’s last sunrise, and she’s no doubt in some stinking hole and
cannot even see it.
Lord James paid little heed to anyone else. All he saw was Miriam’s
face, her green eyes harsh with accusation. All he heard were her pleas.
Do something, James. Save her. Don’t let her die.
Thinking he had everyone’s attention, Shinar got to the point. “It
seems you have a daughter, James.