Her life will not be enough to stone for her sins

A jarringly cheerful melody trilled from unseen speakers as Lydia and Clinton descended the stairs.

Constance, a vibrant splash of red against the muted morning light, greeted them with a chipper, "Finally! I thought you were going to make an old woman wait forever."

Clinton's jaw clenched. He knew full well she was aware of his late arrival, a silent accusation hanging heavy in the air. "We weren't informed you were waiting for us," he said curtly.

"Nonsense! We always have breakfast together." Constance waved a dismissive hand. "Well, you're here now. Come, come, let's eat."

Servants glided in with an extravagant continental spread. Delicious aroma filled the air.

Disbelief warred with nausea in Lydia's gut.

"What's the occasion?" Clinton managed, the question a low growl.

Constance's smile faltered for a fleeting moment. "Occasion?" she echoed, a touch too brightly. "Do I need a reason to prepare a lovely breakfast for my son and his wife?"