Chapter 281
Nima
I wobble slightly, unable to gather the spring for a proper hop, and I give up. Shifting back into my human form is a slower process than it used to be, a gentle unfolding rather than a quick pop. My joints protest the change.
Time has not been kind to me, I think, not with bitterness, but with a quiet, factual acceptance.
I walk towards the pile of clothes on the bed—a soft, simple dress in a warm brown, comfortable but very expensive, as are all my clothes.
Outside in the corridor, a couple of young servants bow deeply.
"Good morning," I say, my voice a little thinner than it used to be. After twenty years as the Duchess's consort, I'm now accustomed to this life in Nyxclaw. The luxury, the servants, the darkness.
I walk down the grand hall. The walls are still the same dark, polished stone, the colors somber and imposing.
