“I can’t just sit here and wait,” Elma burst out, finally ceasing her endless pacing and turning to Cora. “I didn’t realize… I don’t like waiting, Cora. My bodyguard wanders the halls alone; what if he needs assistance? What if Luca and the others… I don’t like not knowing. There are more lives at stake than just the taster’s. I didn’t even know his name, and he died for me.” She looked about wildly as if for some answer, some escape. How had her father lived like this? He may have been carved of ice, but Elma was flesh and bone. “Cora, the walls are closing in around me.”
