““Whats it like, to be in love? The servants speak of it when they think I can't hear. I only wonder." Lia turned around and tossed the cushion back to the chaise lounge. She found she didn't have an answer to Mari's question. She couldn't say what she'd heard her sisters always say, It's thrilling, or It's bliss, or He makes me so happy. She raised her head and swallowed the strangeness in her throat, walking to the fireplace, to the pianoforte, pressing a finger against the honey-buffed wood. "It is," she said at last, "the most terrible feeling in the entire world." And she meant it. "Yes," the girl agreed, examining her face. "I think it must be.””
