Mauve watched the curtains of her room flay, the only evidence of Louis' presence. The partly open curtains gave her an ample vision of the sky, which looked beautiful.
The stars were out, lighting the sky with their glow. The moon was crescent; it wasn't its brightest, and it was just enough light not to outshine the tiny stars closest to it.
She tore her gaze from the window, stalling, wasn't she? She wiped her face, drying the tears streaming down her face. She wanted to say Louis was right, but she didn't know him well enough to know whose side he was on.
She lifted the pillow again and stared hard at the letter. Picking it up, she pulled away the seal. The metallic smell of blood hit her. She frowned. Did he write it with his blood?
Mauve's eyes widened in horror. She was fine with a regular letter. Why did he feel the need to do this?
