Jenny wriggled out from under the covers and wiped her face, only to find the room pitch black. Soon after, the front door clicked shut. She got out of bed, crept to the balcony, and peered down. Two floors below, she saw him get into the carriage. She stared at the glass window until the carriage drove away, then ducked back inside.
The next morning.
The sun was high in the sky when Jenny woke with a start from a nightmare, her body drenched in sweat. She went to the bathroom to take a cold shower. When she came out, the day was already bright. She grabbed a towel from behind the door to dry her face, but when she touched her lips, she winced in pain. She quickly pressed them with her finger.
After combing her hair, she hurriedly opened the cardboard box sitting in the living room and pulled out the white dress inside. Ready-made bustle dresses were usually two-piece, with less strict sizing—they could be produced on a factory assembly line. But the handmade one from the tailor shop was a single piece, with the waistline tightly cinched, making it fit perfectly.
Jenny looked at her reflection in the mirror and couldn't help staring for a few extra moments. It was beautiful, but when she saw her own lips, she felt a surge of anger. Still fuming, she opened another box and took out the brooch from the jewelry set inside, pinning it on. She used nothing else.
Once she was ready, someone knocked at the door. It was the young bellhop from downstairs, saying there was a carriage waiting for her by the roadside. Jenny didn't dare delay. She hurried downstairs and saw Zweit sitting upright in the carriage, eyes straight ahead, looking detached and lofty, with no trace of last night's behavior.
Preview