The afternoon light moved slowly across the study, gilding the towering stacks of tomes in a warm hue.
Margaret's gaze lingered on the sleeping Eleanor for a moment before returning to Murphy. "We should return," she said. "Being absent for too long will arouse suspicion."
Murphy gave a silent nod.
The two walked out of the study, one after the other, and down the quiet corridor, leaving the sleeping child and the scent of old books behind them.
When they stepped back into the lakeside banquet hall, the atmosphere had changed from the tense undercurrents that had been present before they left.
Perhaps the Archbishop's departure had removed the most immediate source of conflict. Perhaps it was the calming effect of Margaret's earlier composure, or maybe the nobles' natural talent for adaptation. Whatever the reason, the facade of a joyous banquet had been restored.
The clinking of crystal glasses, hushed laughter, and lilting string music wove together into a harmonious tableau.
