Shana Abe Read Online Free PDF Page B

grabbed a loose stone as a handhold and it had nearly meant her death. No one but Damon ever knew of it, but the incident had put enough fear into her not to venture out that way again.
    She imagined the stones had not grown any tighter over the past few years, but circumstances were desperate and so was she. She bit her lip for courage.
    This time she was careful to tuck two pillows beneath the covers before she left, just in case.
    The view from the window was breathtaking. Her chambers occupied not quite a full fifth of the upper floor of one of the four walls of the castle. Directly below her was the usually raucous inner courtyard, which bustled with village folk and nobles alike during daylight hours. At night it was deserted except for an occasional soldier on guard duty, making lonely rounds.
    Beyond the castle gate was the meandering cluster of squat buildings that made up the village, a sizable one by common standards. Past that spread the gracious landscape of England in its full beauty. Even in winter Solange saw wonder in the frosted grass, the bare limbs of the trees softly glowing in the moonlight. The line of the forest trees was cut back unevenly, giving tantalizing glimpses into the darkened world beyond.
    It was a world Solange had visited many times, but never enough to satisfy her love of nature and of all living things. The wild forest paths were as familiar to her as her own face, but she always managed to discover a new marvel whenever she went out.
    Of course, Henry knew nothing of this. To the best of his knowledge, his daughter spent her time doing all the proper things a young gentlewoman should. Occasional reports of her absences reached him, but whenever he bothered to summon her for questioning, she always assured him she was off reading, in private.
    At least Henry himself had scoffed at the notion of keeping his only child uneducated and had hired a tutor specifically to teach both her and his ward to read not just English but Latin, in addition to the regular studies of science, mathematics, and religious philosophy. It would prove to be one of the few occasions in his life when he broke with tradition, but nevertheless it remained a godsend for Solange, who, along with Damon, had already devoured most of the scrolls, manuscripts, and books available in the castle.
    The meetings between Solange and her father were invariably the same. She would be summoned to his private study, alone. The marquess remained seated behind an enormous table of mahogany, framed on either side by two giant royal family crests draped from the fringed tapestries behind him. The crests held dancing green and yellow lions and griffins—all with fearsome teeth—on a background of royal blue. It was an intimidating effect for any visitor, and Solange was not immune to it.
    The study always reminded her of the things she was expected to become; things that held infinite rules that all circled back on each other, as inescapable as a Celtic knot.
    Her father would ask why she never arrived for Lady Matilda’s sewing lesson, or Lady Josephine’ssinging lesson or whatever it was. Solange would wait for her list of transgressions to end, then state simply that she had been reading and had forgotten about the lessons.
    Henry would rub his beard and then nod absently. He would tell her for the thousandth time that although the ladies of the castle didn’t approve of her literacy, he didn’t see anything wrong with it. Then she was dismissed. Until the next time.
    Tonight the forest looked blackly obscure, even to Solange. A shiver overtook her as she leaned uncertainly out the bower window. An examination of the stones below her revealed nothing. The moonlight created harsh shadows that left the rock looking pitted and scarred, manifesting the illusion of niches in the wall where actually there were none.
    It was going to be a perilous climb, no doubt, but she only had to go down one floor to get to an unguarded room.