Alice knelt in the Hall of Petitions, and the marble beneath her knees was polished so smooth it looked like still water.
Gold light fell from no sun she could name. It simply existed, the way breath existed, the way the pillars around her existed, each one carved floor to ceiling with the names of worlds she would never see with her own eyes. Rows of angels knelt in silence on either side of her, backs straight, wings folded, hands open and waiting.
Prayer threads drifted through the air above them all, thin as glass and glowing faint gold, each one carrying something a person on some distant world had been too ashamed or too broken to say out loud.
Alice reached up and let one settle into her palm.
One more night with my husband. Just one. I won't ask for anything else.
