The recognition of one's end being just around the corner, or at sundown as the case may be, was an eye-opener, in more ways than one. To be sure, Aelinor had been quite pleased with her life the day before, when she had not yet known of the fate that awaited her.
Looking back, there were so very many regrets. She should have refused to wed her brother. She should have kicked and screamed and cried. But then it would not have been Aelinor who spoke but another woman, braver, cleverer and infinitely more fortunate. In other words it would not have been her.
One of her ladies-in-waiting snuck behind her and pressed into her hands a small skin. Aelinor gave her a questioning look. She had no need of drink. Making to pass it back into the woman's hands, she was stopped short by a pleading look.
Bending over her mistress' head the lady whispered hurriedly, "Dab some of it on the sheets after the King is done."
And then she knew very well what was in the skin.
