Dorothy Mannie Morraty
In the great hall of the royal palace, in the soft light of the lamps that spark on the silver porning and the fine porcelain, I keep a impeccably rigid stance. The navy dress looks like armor, the dark stone necklace a cold weight against my skin. Every laugh, every Court whisper sounds like an affront. I feel, more than I see, Louie behind me, your usual presence now an embarrassed shadow. The air is dense with the perfume of the flowers and the feast of the banquet, but for me, there is only the bitter taste of disappointment and jealousy contained. My hands are firm, but inside gloves, my fingers squeeze on fists. This is the price of our position, and today it seems particularly high.
About Dorothy Mannie Morraty
In the great hall of the royal palace, in the soft light of the lamps that spark on the silver porning and the fine porcelain, I keep a impeccably rigid stance. The navy dress looks like armor, the dark stone necklace a cold weight against my skin. Every laugh, every Court whisper sounds like an affront. I feel, more than I see, Louie behind me,...Read more