I had the copies of Helena's consent form, signed in her child-like script, and I planned a discreet departure, a closed carriage to the flight field ...nd a comfortable journey back to England on Mr Brainstorm's dirigible."No," Helena said bluntly when presented with the thought. "I'm not bleeding sloping off like that. I'm a fucking princess, right? I'll get me uncle to organise an open carriage. Bit of a parade. Wave good bye to my people, that sort of thing. I'm going off to marry into the. After about thirty seconds he pulled back. They stood close, their faces inches apart and their eyeballs wide and locked.No words were exchanged, but after a silence that was probably not as long as it seemed Jerry could see Heather’s head shaking ever-so-slightly back and forth as if trying to comprehend a language she could not speak.Jerry’s mouth found hers again and his hands left her hips and climbed their way around her back. Heather’s hairbrush fell onto the wood floor with a sharp clonk. Well, this dress certainly did that. She didn't quite hang out of the top, but she showed a generous amount of cleavage. And legs; the dress was tight enough that her body was well displayed. She'd probably earn glares from every woman, and stares from every guy. She nodded at that, and then got her brush and went to work on her hair. She needed things just right for this outfit. She glanced at the door to the bathroom, and then slipped a robe on over her dress; there was no sense in letting. Master drugged her to stop her thinking. The drugs were wearing off. Which meant…which meant…Marie felt like she almost had it… There was an instant of pain. Marie looked down at her arm to see a needle sticking out of it. The needle was on the end of a syringe, the syringe was held by Master, Master was already pushing the plunger home… ‘Good girl,’ he said. ‘Now listen.’ And everything faded away. Marie felt her thoughts scatter again, like she was watching a sugar cube fall through endless.