This morning will break into a new dawn. I shall look backward no more. The Duke, my love, is walled forever from my heart. And my heart, from itself.
Amen.
And who is this? The little Elys. Sewing, already, in the darkness of the Closet.
Does she weep? Pray?
"Elys, so sad? here in the dark? What is the matter?"
Elys stands and curtsies. "All is well, Madame."
"Ah, not so. I leave for the Sisters in a fortnight."
"As you wish."
"And you--oh dear, I see--you fear you will be put on the street, to make your way alone. As if fate had not laid a cruel hand on you, heavy and often. In the end, one destiny we cannot escape. We are imperfect vessels. Do not worry, I will keep you with me until I die. And I will procure a place for you there, behind the walls, and you shall be safe. And we shall be sisters--as ever we were."