Lady Starling hung upon the wall, her face glaring down on me with a face of heaven itself. White lace ran down her dress, silloutting her figure as her little black bonnet lay comfortabley upon her head. She was slender and ghastly. Her fingers streched far like a long brittle thorn. Big Pearl necklaces wrapped around her throat squeezing tightly, ready to burst at any minute. Tomato juice stained the portaits face with shame and hate.

Most say this is what she deserves. Women should not have a wandering eye, especially not the Wife of the King. Women should not strech there smile to wide while conversating with another man who isnt her own. Who would have thought that Lady Starling’s Pearl choke would be replaced with the finest rope noose.