//CLARA//
I woke to an empty bed and the faint scent of him still pressed into the pillow beside me.
The morning light was pale and thin, barely past dawn. He had left sometime before the servants began stirring, slipping away like a ghost through the terrace doors or perhaps through the main door like he had every right to be there.
I did not know which. I only knew that when I reached across the mattress, the sheets beside me were cold.
The man slipped through my bed at midnight and left before dawn like some Gilded Age booty call.
I laughed into the pillow, muffling the sound against the linen. I have officially lost all sense of self-preservation. Did I even have one to begin with?
Well, it did not matter. I felt like an idiot. Good to know.
The morning passed in a blur of small duties and larger distractions.
