Her eyes spun and swirled as she peered downward at the elegant, rich carpet beneath her shoes. She'd seen similar pieces before and something nagged at the inside of her, wishing to know if Erik had chosen the blood red floor cover or if someone else's hand had been instrumental in the decor.
Pushing the private question aside, perhaps for another day, Mag waited patiently. The soft echos of shuffling just beyond the slightly ajar gap of the doorway to the library weren't lost on her. She would not go to him. No, it was not her turn. They had seen so little of each other that she was afraid he'd given up all together.
The temptation to leave this large manor had tantalized her more than once in the past few nights when the moon was highest in the sky and the grounds were quiet. Empty. Did he need her here? Probably. Did she want to stay? Yes. But what was her purpose? Had that come and gone without her realizing it?
She did love him. She knew that for sure. But she would not stay in a place that was not hers to fully embrace when she had a small apartment waiting for her that she could stay in as she pleased.
When he spoke her name, Mag lifted her chin and turned her bright eyes upon him. There he stood, a shadow, a curtain over her life. Her lips pressed together and her shoulders straightened but she didn't move. "Are you alright, Erik?"