Benedict's POV
I lingered in the doorway, watching Rowena orchestrate the transformation of her bedroom with renewed energy. Her voice rang out sharp and commanding, no longer the whispered rasp that had haunted these halls for so long. The maids scrambled around her like worker bees, following her precise instructions about which curtains to change, which surfaces to scrub, which remnants of illness to dispose of entirely.
The sight made my stomach churn with disgust. I had been very close to watching her waste away completely, from finally removing the one obstacle that had always seen too clearly through my carefully constructed facade. Now she stood there vibrant and alert, looking more like her old self than she had in ages.
I despised every moment of it.
