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Before I knew it, I'd answered her question."Erm, it was alright," I said.I felt puzzled that I'd even replied, yet felt unable to say anythingelse. She'd clearly taken my answer as an excuse to act, though, asshe'd started to rustle through the three Tesco bags that she'd broughtto the door."Cool," she replied.I started to peer at the bags, not feeling at all normal, almost as ifI'd been rooted to the spot.After a few more moments, she identified the bag she was looking for,rearranging the bunch and transferring the bag to her left hand."Oh-kayyyy, this bag's got my skirts in," she said, raising the bagslightly to demonstrate which one she meant.She smiled, offering it to me as if were a present, her arm outreached,the bag in her hand, waiting to be taken by me.I could see a navy blue material peeking out of the top of the bag, asher rustling it around had disclosed a small part of its contents.Through the bag I could see the shadow of what appeared to be three orfour navy blue. She didn’t know where to go, but her husband's death still weighed heavily on her heart, and she felt guilty for kissing another man so soon after his death, King or otherwise. Her heart screamed at her through its variety of aches to leave, to flee from this place which was the source of so much of her internal pain, to refuse to submit to the smug tyrants sitting on their usurped throne. Her powerlessness infuriated her.Irritated, she shifted again, feeling the same lump under the mattress as she had the last few times she changed positions. She reached between the stacked mattresses and with surprised felt her hand close on the hilt of a dagger, which she pulled out and examined closely. It was a basic steel dagger, with a straight blade and cross guard, with a channel running the length of the blade as a gutter for blood. It was razor sharp.Thoughtfully, Mona tucked the blade into her dress on the floor, not quite sure what she intended to do with it, but she was sure she would.
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