The following morning in Sexton, Ruelle stirred awake on the couch. She rolled onto her side out of habit, only to notice Lucian had already stepped out of the room. There were many days when Lucian left before she woke up, but today it felt like he had left earlier just to avoid her.
"No wonder he despised me," came the muffled words with her face buried in her hands.
Once she got dressed, her hand reached for the scarf, but it paused midair and her fingers curled. Instead, she picked up her books and left the room.
Heading toward the dining hall, Ruelle followed the familiar corridor only to halt when her path was blocked. A rope had been drawn across the passage, guarded by two of Sexton's men.
Hammering echoed off the stone walls, along with the sharp sounds of chisels biting into marble. Dust hung faintly in the air and workers stood on ladders. Looked like the space was being altered, she thought and one of the servants informed her,
