When night set upon the town, Eloise was seated alone in her bedchamber, though the others had gathered to continue their talk.
She sat before a mirror, brushing her hair, not wanting to trouble any of the maids.
Her mind kept wandering to Damien, curious if he was well.
"If there was trouble, they would have sent someone to inform us," Eloise whispered to herself, though doubt crept in. "Or would they have kept it a secret?"
She slowed her brushing, her brow furrowing. "You mustn't worry, or the others will worry."
Setting down her brush, Eloise began to braid her hair into two parts. She only finished the right side before a knock at the door startled her.
"You may enter," Eloise said, turning around, expecting a maid or one of the ladies.
To her surprise, it wasn't a maid at all. It was Damien.
Eloise's eyes widened.
She rose quickly to greet him. "Damien. What brings you here?"
Damien entered and closed the door, locking it behind him. "Are you not happy to see me?"
