24 February, 1370. St Ivan's Palace, Islia.
It turns out a person didn't actually die of heartbreak, even if they felt like they would.
An entire fortnight had dragged by, as slow as a river of sticky mud, without seeing her baby.
And yet, Celia still lived. Her heart was still beating, against all odds.
She sat in the window seat of her apartments, watching the bare branches shaking in the brisk wind. She was completely alone. Her maids knew she didn't want any company for the next few hours.
It hadn't been difficult finding out where Gabriel was. In fact, Lucas had discovered the nursery location from a single conversation with Tobin.
Her baby was in a lavish suite of rooms inside the North Tower. A part of the palace that Celia seldom visited.
She'd wanted to run there the moment she'd found out. But she couldn't.
