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Chapter 44 - Forty Four
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... turning leaves of the oak trees. A gentle, cooling breeze carried the scent of late-blooming roses and lavender. On a small, marble terrace overlooking the grounds, a young woman sat, her fingers gliding over the strings of a large, golden harp. The melody was soft, intricate, and deeply calming, a soft sound that seemed to wash away the last, lingering stains of the recent horrors.
Beatrice, the Dowager Duchess, sat in a comfortable, high-backed wicker chair, her eyes closed, a rare, p ...
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