Yet there was nothing for her to do but to obey. By sundown she was dressed. Penelope wore a knee-length white dress, short for royal stan...ards. The garment was made with additional padding for her breasts, making them look even larger than usual. Yet she thought she could bear anything, including scandalous rumors, since this was the last night of her slavery. The entire walk to the great hall – and through the first half of the feast – Derrick did not appear. Penelope. Like every morning. Miles between the three feet that separated them. ‘Hmm.’ He looked at his watch again and poured out the remaining coffee. Emily sighed. He’d leave now. She watched as he walked around the island counter and slid into his suit jacket. It had always annoyed her how mechanical he seemed when he did that. The well-practiced maneuver of a man so formal. He lived like he dressed. Pressed, proper, and spotless. His steps were beaten into her brain as his tall frame found the. More

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