Chapter 71: Linen Shift

The wind outside the solar windows had settled into high-pitched whistle that made the thick glass panes rattle within their lead frames.

Iris sat on the edge of the low sheepskin cot, her bare feet tucked under the heavy hem of her shift. The cedar box her mother had left sat open on the floorboards between her knees, a tangle of yellowed linen lace and thick cream wool spilling over the dark wood. She hadn't touched the fabric even once. Her hands were clasped tightly around her own shins, her chin resting flat against her kneecaps as she stared at the low embers of the hearth....