After dinner, which Catherine did not find particularly satisfying, considering there wasn't a single piece of meat on her plate, she followed proper manners and ate everything served to her without complaint.
Still, she found herself thinking wistfully about the steak back home.
Perhaps she would have one when she returned.
At least there had been wine.
Maximilian was in the kitchen helping his mother wash dishes when Catherine wandered toward the nursery, slowly finishing the last sip from her glass. Amelia had disappeared there midway through dinner, and curiosity eventually drew Catherine after her.
Charlotte was asleep. The little girl lay peacefully inside her crib, tiny chest rising and falling beneath a soft blanket.
Amelia stood at the foot of the crib, silent and unmoving. She was not looking at her daughter the way most mothers did. She looked like a woman staring at a crossroads, lost somewhere deep inside her own thoughts.
