Storm rages outside the hunting pavilion. Lake water drips from my soaked gown. Antonin bursts in, carries me like prey. Fire crackles. I shiver, but not from cold. Heart pounds. Widow’s mask cracks. No more pious veil. No convent chains.…
Château de Valangiès private apartments. April 8, 1765. Mid-afternoon. Sun slices through heavy curtains. Comte dozes elsewhere. Deaf. Frail. Useless. I lock the door. Double bolt. Click. No interruptions. Lieutenant Pont-Valin sits. Robust. Blue eyes pierce. Big nose. Square jaw.…
Rain hammers the rickety hut on Heian-Kyo’s misty fringe. Thunder rips the sky. I’m Miyako, 28, widow three years. Day servant to my dead husband’s clan. Night? My secrets burn hotter than forges. Heart pounds. Adrenaline surges through ancient streets…