Whisper softly or you're dead

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Prologue

Night had fallen, and the window was lit by a single lamp. Shadows were enveloping the room, blurring her angles as she stood with her back to the window. The moon outlined her figure, obscuring all but its silhouette; only allowing his vivid imagination to fill in the details. She came to the window and drew the drapes close, forbidding him that last surreptitious look at her.

He shrugged and smiled. He could be patient. ‘Soon my love and that beauty of yours will all be mine,’ he whispered softly to himself and left the observing place he had made in the meadow flowers in the garden.

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