Breakfast was waiting for her downstairs when she was ready. Antonin sat at the table with the morning edition of the regime's propaganda rag waiting for her to join him. As was common throughout the entire length of their marriage and the years before when they were only friends, the meal was quiet. There was a great deal that needed to be said, but she wasn't sure that she really had the energy. Finally deciding that just as she couldn't hide in her bed, she couldn't hide from the truth, she put her fork down and looked into Antonin's dark brown eyes.