His portrait stares at her, reminding her of the way he used to be, before. During the days that's all she has of him, his picture mocking her. She hears the servants whispering, gossiping over the reasons he's so often gone from their home. He's found another lover, he's spending all his time in the gambling dens, to even more outrageous suggestions, he's a spy for the queen, he's become a criminal. If they only knew, the truth is even more horrible than anything they could imagine.
Seven days ago he woke her as he slipped into her chambers in the small hours. "Darling," he said as his hand glided down the side of her face and neck, stopping in the hollow at the base of my neck. His fingers, long and gentle, were cold, and his touch made her tremble with a fear she couldn't understand. "I found him." She looked up at him, confused by sleep. "Who?"
"It's all true," was all he would say. She knew then, her mind clearing, the monster he...