She recalled how she had stretched out her arms toward the magic blue horizon. The vast mirrored chamber, with its four little square window bays, two either side of the large raised dais that led to the French doors, was very full of company for the start of the Little Season. She would end this sham with Manning. The season was ripe for mating, she thought to herself bitterly. She thought of her father in the garden, and of her aunt with her Patience, as she had seen them—how many ages was it ago? Just one day intervened. Martin was the only person to directly address Lucy again, trying to reassure her that “real vampires melt in direct sunlight.
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