winter's end

“Please, Mirian,” one of the servants said. “Mistress Grey’s orders...”

“Let go of me!” Mirian insisted. She tore herself away from them. She rushed up the stairs, knees nearly buckling, tripping herself. Terror drove her, grew with every breath she took. She nearly collided with one of the serving women, who was carrying an armload of rags from the landing to Lilia’s room. The door stood slightly ajar.

A baby was crying.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two of Taerith is up. Read, comment. Many thanks :).