The days wore on within the walls of the White Palace. Each hour stretched into the next until a week had passed by, and Caroline was bored. She would have almost preferred being thrown in the dungeon as Marcaius had previously suggested. At least there might be others down there she could talk to.
Her only company so far had been in the form of Marcaius Mont. The beautiful vampire would visit her each day, dressed in the finery dictating his noble status. His tawny hair was styled in perfect waves. But Caroline was unnerved continuously by the glint of malice tucked behind his crimson eyes. At first, she let him goad her into speaking, but in the last few days, Caroline stopped talking to him altogether.
