Remember that. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. He would come swiftly to her aid, she knew it. From head to foot he was attired in the fashionable garb of the young man of the moment. Perhaps that sealed letter was a form of confession, and thus relieved him on that score. “I should like to understand you,” he said. I’m fine. She spent many days in the castle alone as he busied himself with his alchemy, or traveled to Florence to visit his remaining political connections. Michelle looked at Lucy knowingly.
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