Charlotte paced the length of her small room in the servant's quarters, her hands intertwined in each other, her chest heaving. She swallowed, then stopped in fromt of the dimmed torch, her hand coming up to her forehead. It was a cold night, yet the beads of perspiration crowded on her forehead.
"What is it?" Came the now familiar voice, just this time a little irritated.
Charlotte immediately turned to the voice. The woman was standing by the wall as usual, her lips thin, her hands folded in front of her.
"You are here."
"I do not know of anyone in my likeness. You were looking for me?"
Charlotte swallowed hard, nodding at the small piece of silk the woman had handed to her. The messenger pigeon had taken off hours ago, and she had begun to wonder if it had gotten killed or if the w
