<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">There were mornings where she was certain that she could feel every second of every moment of each year that she had lived out so far, and were she to be honest –even if only to her self –those mornings had become more and more frequent in recent days. However, despite a night spent in a flurry of motion and activity that hadn’t reach an end until the grey hours of near dawn, as she watched the sun make its gradual sojourn in the distant horizon from her bedroom window, she still found that her energy from the night before had not waned. It was, as she saw it, early evidence of the wisdom in her decision to introduce a new resident into her household. Of course, as with all things, its longevity would need to be tested against time; however, if there were two things that Sorcha Gale Ó Faoláin possessed they were good instincts –and time. <br/>
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     Rising from where she had sat within the deep-set arch of her bedroom window, she turned her thoughts away from matters of past and present, and sought about searching her wardrobe for suitable clothing. The smells of breakfast wafting from the kitchen several floors below was, admittedly, her greatest source of motivation for making haste with her ablutions. The appetite that had once gained her family a certain degree of notoriety had not passed her by, and if there were any affairs of which Sorcha refused to be fashionably late they would be breakfast, lunch, and dinner. With a glance at her reflection in the mirror to gauge the acceptability of her appearance, she was out the door and treading lightly towards her kitchen, and the various scents of delicious promise it emanated. <br/>
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     Marie, her servant of several years, had shown promise as a cook early into her incorporation into the Ó Faoláin household, and, as with many others, she had quickly proven to be an example of the instincts that often acted as Sorcha’s guide in absence of more exact information, or guarantees of certainty. Beyond that Marie had more than demonstrated her capabilities in directing the ebb and flow of activity in a homestead that for many would seem overwhelming, even with the addition of her daughter Tara. It was for that reason, and countless others, that the use of formalities and titles between them had given way to an almost familial arrangement more often than not. <br/>
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     As such, little thought was placed in her appearance within the kitchen where the red headed cook was busy at work in creating the smells of breakfast that had so predictably lured her, neither was any glance of surprise turned her way when she seated herself at the small table that had once been for the use of the house servants alone. Her presence there had, like so many other unconventional habits, become a customary aspect of a very uncustomary household. Tilting her chair back from the table slightly, her eyes followed the movements of the cook; a slight chuckle escaping her when the woman took the time to reproach her for her posture at the table. <br/>
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     Marie, her daughter, and anyone else who was either in her service or under her influence through some means or another, they were not just hers to command, they were also hers to protect. Given the many challenges and dangers of the task that had been left to her, it was little wonder that she would have become so wearied and overburdened. Thoughts once more turning to her home’s newest addition, her eyes likewise turned away from Marie as she readied her breakfast, and towards the door that led one in and out of the kitchen as if they could peer through the aged wood and locate the individual who currently held her mind’s private musings. <br/>
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     Time only could tell her whether her instincts had been correct, and until then she could only trust in them and, subsequently, also in the man who was now charged with assisting her in protecting her own. For as important to her as her responsibility to them was, she had also been forced to acknowledge that eventually she would no longer be able to defend against the vulnerability presented by her singularity. Regardless of the arguments to the contrary that she knew those of her house would have launched (and indeed had launched in the case of Marie), she knew that she needed the help that her new resident could provide, but more importantly, she needed to be able to place even more faith than usual in her instincts that he would be able to aid her in defending those most significant in her life. Despite all of that; however, Sorcha had to wonder whether her greatest challenge would be in trusting his skill enough to leave him fully in charge of her people, or in doing so while also concealing from him the reasons why.<br/>
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     Time would tell; slowly, and with the penchant for storytelling she knew it to have, but eventually time would have to tell –it was never very good at keeping secrets.</span></span>