The silk glistened faintly in the moonlight coming in through the window. Walden let the smooth fabric glide across his fingers and fall back into a drawer. Stealing a glance at the sleeping Pansy, he felt around it again.
This time, his hand came across a lace chemise. Pressing the see-through garment to his face, the executioner inhaled deeply. The flowery scent clung to everything that belonged to her. He hung the chemise over a chair and quietly slipped from the bedroom.
Tomorrow, he would be sitting at breakfast hoping, imaging that she would be wearing it underneath her robes.