6 January, 1369. St Ivan's Palace, Havietten
Celia weaved quietly through the bookshelves until she reached the table where she typically met with Lucas. To her great relief, he was there.
His face lit up when he saw her. The next moment, he looked at her eye and frowned with worry.
"Stop it. It's not as bad as it was before. It barely even hurts anymore." Celia frowned. She knew she still had bruising under her eyes, but at least it had now faded to yellow as opposed to its original dark purple.
"When I didn't see you here after the New Year's banquet, I thought maybe you'd been confined to your apartments."
"No, it was my decision to keep to my rooms. I didn't need everyone in the palace staring at my face and whispering wherever I went." Celia said drily. "As it is, one of my ladies returned to my service yesterday and burst into tears when she saw me. I'd hate to think how she would've reacted if she'd seen the bruises when they were worse."
