The corridor seemed colder than it had moments ago. Lucrezia walked without a particular destination in mind, her fingers curled loosely around the fabric of her sleeves.
She had left his chamber in such a hurry that she had scarcely thought about where she was going. All she had wanted was to get away from him, away from the terrifying sight of his red eyes and the crushing strength of his hand around her wrist.
Now that she was away, however, she found herself wishing she had thought things through.
She could not return to his chamber. Not tonight. The thought alone made her stomach tighten.
She could still remember the expression on his face when he had ordered her to leave. It had not been anger alone. There had been something else beneath it, something she could not quite understand. And although she knew he had not intended to hurt her, the memory of his grip was enough to make her uneasy.
She glanced down at her wrist.
