Eleanor turned this way and that, admiring in the mirror's reflection the way the earrings lay against her skin. They had been a gift from Louis, gossamer light, shimmering with citrine and diamond, and, though they pinched a little, Eleanor and pain were old lovers. She slid carefully into a light silken robe, careful to not dislodge the earrings; she would shock the children at Christmas dinner and Henry would laugh.