The pre-dawn quiet of the Thompson estate was shattered by a sound of pure, frantic panic.
"Dowager! Dowager!"
Lorena's voice, a high-pitched, desperate shriek, echoed down the long, silent corridor of the south wing. The two guards stationed outside the Dowager Duchess's chambers moved as one, their large bodies forming a human wall, their hands instinctively going to the hilts of their swords as Lorena came running towards them. Her usually immaculate hair had come loose from its pins, and her eyes were wide and wild with terror.
"Let me pass!" she cried, trying to push through them. "It's the young master! Dowager! Please, you must save Ryan!"
"Let her enter."
The voice from inside the chambers was frail with sleep but held an unshakeable core of authority. The guards immediately stepped aside, releasing Lorena's arms.
