"Marianne?" Noor inquired, not caring who Anastasia was referring to.
"Maxwell's concubine, the one who died the evening the king was murdered," Anastasia explained, her anxiety evident and her heartbeat slowing as she awaited a response. She observed a shift in the woman's gaze, the look in her eye changing to something menacing.
Noor, whose eyes remained fixed on Anastasia, watched the young girl before inquiring, "A friend of yours, was she? I had even forgotten about her until you brought her up. Insignificant individuals tend to fade away from memory, don't they? That's just the way life is, transforming you into something people no longer remember. It is unfortunate for her that she happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, and I had to dispose of her."
"It hurts, doesn't it?" Noor questioned her.
