Septimus Heap 3 - Physik Read Online Free PDF Page A

scraped back into two coiled plaits that were fastened behind her rather pointed ears, and she wore a simple, severe gold crown. Her dark violet eyes fixed Jenna with a disapproving stare that immediately made Jenna feel she had done something wrong.
    “Wh-who are you?” stammered Jenna.
    The Queen tapped her foot impatiently. “Chapter Thirteen, Granddaughter. Look in Chapter Thirteen. I have told you before. You must learn to listen. All Queens must learn to listen.”
    Jenna could not imagine this Queen listening to anyone, but she said nothing. What bothered her was why the ghost had called her granddaughter. It was the second time she had used that word. Surely this horrible ghost could not possibly be her grandmother? “But ... why do you keep calling me Granddaughter?” asked Jenna, hoping that she might have misheard.
    "Because I am your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great But you may call me Grandmama."
    “Grandmama!” said Jenna, aghast.
    “Indeed. That will be entirely suitable. I do not expect my full title.”
    “What is your full title?” asked Jenna.
    The ghost of the Queen sighed impatiently and Jenna felt her icy breath ruffle her hair. “Chapter Thirteen. I shall not tell you again,” she said severely. “I can see I have not come a moment too soon. You are in grave need of guidance. Your own mother has much to account for in her neglect of your royal teaching and good manners.”
    “Mum is a really good teacher,” Jenna objected indignantly. “She hasn't neglected anything.”
    “Mum ... Mum? Who is this ... Mum?” The Queen managed to look both disapproving and puzzled at the same time. In fact, over the centuries she had perfected the fine art of mixing every possible expression with disapproval, until, even if she had wanted to, she would no longer have been able to untangle them. But the Queen did not want to. She was quite happy with disapproval, thank you very much.
    “Mum is my mum. I mean, my mother,” said Jenna edgily.
    “And what is her name, pray?” asked the ghost, peering down at Jenna.
    “It's none of your business,” Jenna replied crossly.
    “Would it be Sarah Heap?”
    Jenna refused to reply. She stared angrily at the ghost, willing her to go away.
    “No, I shall not go away, Granddaughter. I have my duty to consider. We both know that this Sarah Heap person is not your real mother.”
    “She is to me,” muttered Jenna.
    “What things are to you, Granddaughter, is of no consequence. The truth is that your real mother, or the ghost of her, sits in her turret and neglects your royal education, so that you do appear to be more a lowly serving girl than a true Princess. It is a disgrace, an absolute disgrace, which I intend to rectify for the benefit of this poor benighted place that my Castle—and my Palace—has become.”
    “It is not your Castle or your Palace,” Jenna objected.
    “That, Granddaughter, is where you are mistaken. It was mine before and soon it will be mine again.”
    “But—”
    “Do not interrupt. I shall leave you now. It is well past your bedtime.”
    “No, it's not,” said Jenna indignantly.
    “In my day all Princesses retired to bed at six o'clock until they became Queen. I myself went to bed at six o'clock every night until I was thirty-five and it never did me any harm.”
    Jenna looked at the ghost in amazement. Then, suddenly, she smiled at the thought of how relieved everyone else in the Palace must have been, all those years ago, when six o'clock came around.
    The Queen misinterpreted Jenna's smile. “Aha, you are seeing sense at last, Granddaughter. I will leave you now to go to sleep for I have important business to attend to. I will see you in the morrow. You may kiss me good night.”
    Jenna looked so horrified that the Queen took a step back and said, “Well, then, I can see you are not yet used to your dear Grandmama. Good night, Granddaughter.”
    Jenna did not