The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. She mentally reprimanded herself to alter her own visage so as not to appear depraved. “Dear me,” she said, “I fancy you exaggerate my fame. ‘And I trust you will pardon my inadequacies. But, in spite of his outcries and resistance, he was dragged along by Jonathan and his janizaries. —I do not congratulate you on your success. Oddly, Sebastian chose to be charioteer.
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