My body is burning with fever when I wake up in the morning after thinking intensely about the next steps I'm going to take. Marie fusses over me the entire morning, placing a cool towel on my forehead and bringing me a glass of hot chocolate. It is warm outside, but I'm shivering under the covers. This useless body with lousy immunity probably picked up something from the little amount of time I spent in the dungeon.
Black eyes, empty yet yearning, taunt mine whenever I close my eyes to sleep. It's the guilt. I don't know who that young maid was who aided me in Sunset Palace, but I haven't seen her once since then. I described her carefully to Marie as well, but my nursemaid was similarly at a loss. The thought that something terrible might have happened to her at the hands of Sir Berrick wreaks at my conscience and I pick back up my old life habit of biting my nails.
