In the meantime, whispers were spreading along the castle corridors that guests were expected that day, though no one was told who they were. In fact, the secrecy was so great that only a few servants preparing for the reception and the Baron's closest companions knew anything officially. All other servants and common folk had been driven away even from the vicinity of the castle. To lend more weight to his orders, the Baron had tripled the number of guards, and the town was crawling with soldiers, marching up and down all day to discourage the townsfolk from snooping. Wisely, most people only dared to watch from their windows, hoping to catch some hint of what was happening.
Most of the townspeople barely even raised a brow anymore; they simply chalked the events up to another of the Baron's whims. Everyone knew questioning the Baron's decisions was sheer stupidity and could easily end with one's head rolling far from one's shoulders. Besides, they had bigger problems—like figuring out how they were going to pay this month's taxes, since last year's harvest had been poor and, with winter nearly over, most people were down to the last of their reserves.
While the common folk struggled day after day for survival within the crumbling walls of their homes, inside the castle a small figure slipped soundlessly along a deserted corridor like a ghost.
"Stop right there, you!" came a shout from beyond a door that had just opened. The ghost froze and bowed their head. "Weren't you told to stay in your room until the master sends for you this evening?" It would have been hard to say whether the old maid's voice carried more pity or annoyance, if one listened closely. She whirled the cloaked figure around to face her. Two large, pale green eyes lifted to hers, and a faintly contrite smile appeared on the young face.
The maid looked her over and clicked her tongue in disapproval. Yes, that was definitely disapproval now, not pity.
"And where exactly did you think you were going, you foolish girl?" she asked.
"What makes you think I was going anywhere, Esthelle?" The woman's already wrinkled forehead creased even deeper.
"Do you take me for a halfwit? Then why are you dressed like that?"
Indeed, if one took a closer look, the would-be ghost was no ghost at all, but a young girl. Her slim, slender frame was swallowed by a pair of men's trousers several sizes too big and an even larger man's shirt, all covered by a grey cloak. A mass of copper-red curls—which only made her ghost-pale skin seem even paler—had been pulled tightly back and tucked under her hood.
"I just… I only…" the girl began to stammer. Clearly she had not expected to be caught trying to sneak out of the castle. Finally, with a resigned little sigh and a trace of guilt in her voice, she lifted her shoulders.
"Surely you wouldn't want me to lie. But I can't tell the truth either, because then we'd both be in trouble. Dear, sweet Esthelle! You know how much I love you, you're my only friend and confidante here," she began to coax her. "Please, let me go about my business and don't tell anyone! I promise I'll be back in time, no one will even notice I wasn't in my room. It's still a long way till evening…"
"Oh, enough with the flattery, I know exactly what you're plotting again!" the woman cut her off. "But Leonie, I'm warning you! Last time I had to cover for you when you 'accidentally' broke that expensive vase from the king. You almost drove me to begging with your wildness. If you get caught now, I won't help you, I'll just stand there and watch while he gives you a good beating."
At the maid's words, Leonie lowered her head, and deep sadness flickered in her eyes. She nodded.
"I understand," she said, and without another word spun on her heel and ran off toward the end of the corridor. There she turned right and flew down a narrow staircase to the servants' quarters. Luckily, the few servants who remained in the castle were all bustling about in the kitchen or the great hall, so she ran into no one as she hurried along to a small door in the castle's side wall. It opened onto a secluded dirt path, used only by servants when, on rare occasions, the Baron was in a generous enough mood to let them visit their families.
The Baron. Esthelle had been right. He valued that ridiculous vase more than any of his people's lives, just because it had come from the king. And he never missed a chance to tell every guest about it. He liked to boast of how close he was to the king, and no one dared contradict him. The Baron was known for his violence and for the pleasure he took in others' suffering. Across the entire realm he had a reputation for being a truly despicable man.
Esthelle had spoken true: if Leonie was caught now, the Baron would punish her so harshly she would likely spend weeks lying with broken bones again. And that would still be the lucky outcome…
She shook her head to chase away the darkness creeping into her thoughts, then slipped out into the town at a run. Moving from shadow to shadow along the houses, she made her way to an old mill. The mill had long been out of use, so no one greeted her when she slipped inside and closed the door behind her. She glanced around, then strode toward a trapdoor hiding a stairway down with such confidence it was obvious this was not her first time here.
It was fortunate, in a way, that the Baron's forebears had been just as paranoid as he was, and several tunnels led from the town out into the countryside. This one had been left unguarded because part of it had collapsed years earlier, and people had decided it was impassable. Leonie, however, had spent long months clearing a narrow passage through the rubble, just wide enough for her to squeeze through. It was hardly safe—any part of it could cave in again at any time—but beggars couldn't be choosers. And Leonie desperately needed to get out into the forest, if only to give herself the illusion of freedom for a few fleeting moments.
She had been wandering through the forest for an hour already, searching for the familiar gnarled tree around which beautiful lilac-stemmed dawnflowers grew, when the sound of hooves drumming on the ground reached her ears. She froze and pressed herself against a tree, trying to hide from the riders. In her fright she even forgot to breathe when she heard them cheerfully discussing the prospect of burning down the town.
She shut her eyes for a moment, trying to gather her scattered thoughts. If she ran now, they would definitely see her, so she had to wait until the two strangers had gone far enough away. But who were they, and what were they doing here? People only hunted in this part of the forest during the season, and these two men could not possibly be hunters—
Suddenly she jerked her head up. The Baron's mysterious guests. They had to be them. But why weren't they using the road like every other noble visitor?
Her curiosity got the better of her. Just one look, just a single glance—surely that wouldn't give her away, not if she stayed quiet as a butterfly's sigh. But she had to know who they were, especially since she'd been summoned for the evening as well. Perhaps it would help her prepare for what awaited her.
Slowly she edged sideways and just barely poked her head out from behind the tree, enough to see the two men. The sight that greeted her was nothing she had prepared for. She might even have squeaked aloud, if her lungs had remembered how to work. As it was, the rest of her body froze too.
The two men were enormous, especially together with their horses. One of them rode a jet-black stallion. His long, light blond hair was tied back in intricate braids, and his broad shoulders strained against his black leather clothing as if it were a second skin. Simple iron earrings hung from his ears. His very presence radiated wildness and promised death.
Beside him rode a silvery grey horse, bearing a rider only a little shorter than the blond man but somewhat leaner. His wavy brown hair, just long enough to brush his ears, seemed to have a life of its own, floating around his head. At first glance he looked much more cheerful than his companion.
Cheerful—while they were talking about wiping out the entire castle.
Leonie swallowed hard as she realized it was probably no coincidence that the Baron's estate was under such heavy guard, and no coincidence either that no one wanted the people crossing paths with these two dangerous-looking strangers.
She had to get out of here. Now. As if she had never been here at all.
She waited another moment to let the riders move farther away, then took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the tree. She'd gotten away with it—now all she had to do was make it back to the castle without being noticed by the guards. Afterwards she could start worrying about how she would survive the evening.
She set off at a quick trot in the direction she'd come from, but she had barely gone a few metres when she heard hooves thundering toward her again. How was that even possible? She had waited until they disappeared from sight.
This time she was done for. She had survived her grim circumstances for so long, and now she was going to die alone and nameless in a forest, crushed under the hooves of two strangers' horses. She could have imagined a more dignified death for herself—but when had she ever been given a choice in anything? Was it really going to be in death that she finally got one?
The thunder was so close now that, in sheer terror, she squeezed her eyes shut and began muttering a prayer under her breath. After two steps, however, she rebounded off something hard so violently it was as if she had run full-tilt into a stone wall. Like a frog, she sprawled on the ground and gasped for air, then opened her eyes—only to wish a heartbeat later that the horses had trampled her instead.