The bedroom was dim and quiet, the way Ruby preferred it in the evenings. She had drawn the curtains back from the tall window herself, dismissing the maid who had tried to do it for her, because she wanted to stand here alone and look out at the estate that had been her world for years.
The grounds of Dravengard stretched below her, lit by the glow of the lamplights, familiar and beautiful and entirely hers in every way that mattered.
She lifted her glass of wine and took a slow sip.
Tomorrow, the guards at her door would step aside. Tomorrow, her house arrest would officially be over.
She had counted every single one of those fourteen days the way a prisoner counts walls. She had smiled through them, maintained her composure in front of the staff, taken her meals quietly, and given nobody any reason to report anything back to Derek beyond the image of a woman accepting her punishment with grace.
