Charles felt the impulse to go to her, to go search for her, but instead, he walked over to the adjoining door and stood there. His hand grabbed onto the doorknob and stayed. He would not turn, he only stared at it.
For how long he was there, he did not know. Was this how close he could stand to her? Would he ever always stand by her with an obstacle repelling him? This time, it was a door. What would it be next time?
He removed his hand and sent it to his pocket, his cigar wasting away. He did not want to go anywhere else. If this was how close he could stand to her, he would accept it. For now.
She did not need him by her anyways and he had promised to give her freedom to be whoever she wished. He would not go back on that oath.
"My Lady, Mr. Winston is here."
