The sound of the opening door woke Charles from his sleep. With the interval balance of the footsteps, coupled with the implicit knowledge that none other would visit his bedroom without his permission, especially when he was in, he knew right away that it was Albert, his valet.
Charles opened his eyes slightly and saw the young man pulling back the curtains. "Did she make it?" His voice was broken from sleep and almost inaudible.
Albert was startled. "Your Grace, I am sorry to disturb your sleep. I only wanted to draw back the curtains." He bowed.
Charles turned to lay supine, ignoring the apology. "Black? How is she?"
Albert stood upright, held his hands together. "As was feared, Your Grace, she passed away last night. The stable hand said it was painless and peaceful."
