Had I done the wrong thing?
It was that, and only that, that ran through my mind as I walked from one corner of my chambers to the next, my mind almost twice as busy as my body was. I would have been lying if I said that I wasn’t anxious to see how she would behave at the breakfast table—which was where I would be expected to be in the next five minutes, if the time on my wristwatch was accurate.
After I had let the cat out of the bag, after I had told Hera what it was that she was to be to Marcel, she had done the exact opposite of what I had been expecting her to do. Instead of snapping at me, instead of allowing her emotions to explode in the way that they usually seemed to do, she had swallowed her tongue, and soon after, had even walked away as if our conversation hadn’t taken pla
