Ida stood completely frozen at the doorway of her bedroom. Her hands trembled wildly at her sides. The hallway of the servants' quarters felt exactly like a cold graveyard.
Seeing General Damon standing here was completely impossible. He belonged in the grand, luxurious master bedroom on the second floor. He did not belong in the narrow, damp corridors where the staff slept.
Ida swallowed hard. A huge, thick lump formed in her throat, making it difficult to breathe. She forced her dry mouth to make a sound.
"Is there trouble, my lord?" she asked. Her voice was thin, weak, and incredibly shaky. She tried to force a polite, sleepy smile onto her face, but her facial muscles refused to cooperate.
Damon did not answer her immediately. His dark eyes stared right through her, cold and hollow. He stepped forward, crossing the threshold and entering her room.
