"Have you noticed?"
"What?"
"Her majesty."
Three pairs of eyes followed the figure dressed in black making her way through the rain, carefully guarded by the intricate, ebony umbrella. If the woman heard them, she gave no indication and continued on her way.
"What of her ladyship?"
"She is in mourning, that is certain... yet I cannot help but feel there is something odd going on. Since his majesty's death, she has not gone anywhere without that rose... and that man she intends to take as her bridegroom. He is... overwhelming."
"And handsome. Suspiciously so. She hangs on his every word."
"And that expression on her face is rather frightfully blank! She speaks words of sadness, though I'm afraid, bless her soul, I do not feel it!"
"...what do we do?"
"There is nothing else we can do, ladies. Whatever ails our lady, we can only pray, it comes out for better."
