Who: Viola and Henri What: A discovery Where: The wood near Rosier, and then likely the clinic When: Sunday morning, early
Viola should have been exhausted after the night she'd had. The questioning. The surgery. The terrible dinner where she'd faced off against not only Linden but her own brother. She should've shut her eyes and immediately been dead asleep, and yet she tossed and turned, angry, anxious, unable to rest. Just before dawn, she finally gave up trying to rest and dragged her weary body out of bed, dressing in something light and easy and easy to vanish in, except for the pearly, comfortable sandals she paired with the outfit. At first, she'd thought she might slip away to see Lachlan. She'd been denied the opportunity the night before. She could sneak into his room, be held by him a while--
But it was too risky, this early in the morning. Servants would be waking and putting the house in order. Tired as she was, vanishing would be less reliable, and the last thing that either of them needed was for her to get caught. Especially with Linden here. So she decided, instead, to take a walk. Clear her head. It wouldn't hurt her to walk in the morning and then go back to bed, would it? The longer she slept through the day, the less time she had to spend in the company of her ex-fiance. Besides, a walk would be bracing.
Mist was kissing the hilltops as Viola slipped outside. She avoided the gardens -- too obvious, too likely for some servant to talk to her -- and headed instead for the wood bordering the property. it wasn't an area she'd explored much since she'd gotten here other than, once in a while, on horseback. It was different on foot, but the trail was easy enough to follow and the birdsong and smell of fresh air was calming. It reminded her of childhood, when she and Beau and Winnie and Abel would tear through this wood like hellions, searching for faerie rings and climbing trees (even though Viola wasn't supposed to do that even then). Nostalgia swirled in her chest as she walked deeper, brushing the leaves of saplings with her fingertips. It was so different now. So different.
She froze at a sudden sound nearby. Something in the brush, bigger than a squirrel or a chipmunk. A deer, maybe. She held her breath and faded both visually and corporeally, watching, hoping to see the creature up close.