Guilt! Guilt! Guilt, damn it, give me guilt! he thought, and emptied the glass very quickly.Still, no guilt.Roger started in his chair from the sudden...knowledge that the room was not empty. Was he going mad? No, no... it was just that so seldom did anyone join him in here. He twisted his head and saw Ellen walking across the room behind him to a cabinet. She opened it, retrieved something, closed it, and walked nonchalantly all the way across the room and out again, neither glancing at her. Her eyes were downcast. "Maybe, another night..." I'll tell it, Lady." Heather glanced once at Sam, her expression conveying something the teen could not interpret, before looking at the fairies. "If things are coming to a conclusion, one way or another, the stories must be told now, while we have time." She took a deep breath. "I probably should start when I took service with the Duke..."It seemed weird, to Heather, that now that she was a slave she was dressed in better finery than she had. More

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