home.
“Our walking through the street is, in
fact, most convenient. My daughter whom you wish to see is on the far end of
the city, perched in her library. This is the quickest way to get there.”
Gwen thought of where they were going—the
Royal Library—which she so badly wished to see, and she grew excited. She also
thought of the Queen’s youngest daughter, whom the King asked her to see first,
and she wondered once again about her.
“Tell me about her,” Gwen said.
The Queen’s face lit up at the mention
of her.
“She’s remarkable,” she said. “She has a
mind unlike anyone I’ve ever met. You will see that there is really no one like
her. I don’t know where she gets it from—certainly not from me.”
The Queen shook her head as she spoke,
her eyes watering with admiration.
“How can it be that a ten-year-old girl can
have an intellect powerful enough to be the scholar of the kingdom? Not only is
she the fastest thinker I’ve ever met, but she retains scholarship unlike
anyone I’ve ever met. It’s more than an affinity—it’s an obsession. Ask her anything
about our history, and she will tell you. I’m ashamed to say her knowledge is
greater even than mine. And yet, I am so proud of her—she spends all her days
in that library. It is making her far too pale, if you ask me. She should be
out, playing with her friends.”
Gwen thought of it all as she walked,
remembering her first meeting her at the feast, and how taken she had been by
her. Clearly, this was an extraordinary girl. Being so enamored of books, the
two of them had clicked instantly, as Gwen had sensed a kindred soul in her. It
made Gwen think of her time spent in the House of Scholars, and she knew that
if her father had not intervened, she would have spent all her days locked away
in that building, lost in books.
“Your husband told me I must see her
first,” Gwen said. “He said I should ask her of the history before visiting the
tower and your other son, Kristof. He said she would give me a primer, a better
understanding of it.”
Gwen watched the Queen’s face darken at
the mention of her other son. She nodded sadly.
“Yes, she will tell you all about that
cursed tower and more,” she said. “Though I don’t know what good it will do. My
children in that tower are lost to me now.”
Gwen looked at her, stunned.
“Children?” she repeated. “The king mentioned
but one son. Have you others?”
The Queen looked down as they walked,
cutting through the streets, passing vendors, and she remained silent for a
very long time. Just when Gwen began to wonder if she would ever answer, finally,
the Queen wiped a tear and looked at her, her face filled with sadness.
“My daughter lives there, too.”
Gwen gasped.
“A daughter? Your husband did not
mention it.”
The Queen nodded.
“Kathryn. He never mentions her. He acts
as if she does not exist. Just because she is touched.”
Gwen looked back, puzzled.
“Touched?” she echoed.
The Queen looked away, and Gwen realized
it was too painful for her to discuss it, and she did not want to pry. A silence
fell back over them as they walked, Gwen more curious than ever. These people
of the Ridge seemed to hold endless secrets. It made Gwen think of the Queen’s
other son, Mardig, and made her wonder what darkness lay in their family.
They weaved their way throughout the
streets and finally turned a corner, and as they did, the Queen came to an
abrupt stop. She looked up, and Gwen did, too.
Gwen gasped, in awe at the building
before her. It was a building unlike any Gwen had ever seen, built of shining
marble, with huge golden doors shaped in a tall arch, intricately carved. The
doors were adorned with golden images of books carved into them, and long,
tapered stained-glass windows lined the exterior. It resembled a church but was
more circular in shape, and even more impressive, set in the midst of an open
city square with nothing around it in every direction,
“Our walking through the street is, in
fact, most convenient. My daughter whom you wish to see is on the far end of
the city, perched in her library. This is the quickest way to get there.”
Gwen thought of where they were going—the
Royal Library—which she so badly wished to see, and she grew excited. She also
thought of the Queen’s youngest daughter, whom the King asked her to see first,
and she wondered once again about her.
“Tell me about her,” Gwen said.
The Queen’s face lit up at the mention
of her.
“She’s remarkable,” she said. “She has a
mind unlike anyone I’ve ever met. You will see that there is really no one like
her. I don’t know where she gets it from—certainly not from me.”
The Queen shook her head as she spoke,
her eyes watering with admiration.
“How can it be that a ten-year-old girl can
have an intellect powerful enough to be the scholar of the kingdom? Not only is
she the fastest thinker I’ve ever met, but she retains scholarship unlike
anyone I’ve ever met. It’s more than an affinity—it’s an obsession. Ask her anything
about our history, and she will tell you. I’m ashamed to say her knowledge is
greater even than mine. And yet, I am so proud of her—she spends all her days
in that library. It is making her far too pale, if you ask me. She should be
out, playing with her friends.”
Gwen thought of it all as she walked,
remembering her first meeting her at the feast, and how taken she had been by
her. Clearly, this was an extraordinary girl. Being so enamored of books, the
two of them had clicked instantly, as Gwen had sensed a kindred soul in her. It
made Gwen think of her time spent in the House of Scholars, and she knew that
if her father had not intervened, she would have spent all her days locked away
in that building, lost in books.
“Your husband told me I must see her
first,” Gwen said. “He said I should ask her of the history before visiting the
tower and your other son, Kristof. He said she would give me a primer, a better
understanding of it.”
Gwen watched the Queen’s face darken at
the mention of her other son. She nodded sadly.
“Yes, she will tell you all about that
cursed tower and more,” she said. “Though I don’t know what good it will do. My
children in that tower are lost to me now.”
Gwen looked at her, stunned.
“Children?” she repeated. “The king mentioned
but one son. Have you others?”
The Queen looked down as they walked,
cutting through the streets, passing vendors, and she remained silent for a
very long time. Just when Gwen began to wonder if she would ever answer, finally,
the Queen wiped a tear and looked at her, her face filled with sadness.
“My daughter lives there, too.”
Gwen gasped.
“A daughter? Your husband did not
mention it.”
The Queen nodded.
“Kathryn. He never mentions her. He acts
as if she does not exist. Just because she is touched.”
Gwen looked back, puzzled.
“Touched?” she echoed.
The Queen looked away, and Gwen realized
it was too painful for her to discuss it, and she did not want to pry. A silence
fell back over them as they walked, Gwen more curious than ever. These people
of the Ridge seemed to hold endless secrets. It made Gwen think of the Queen’s
other son, Mardig, and made her wonder what darkness lay in their family.
They weaved their way throughout the
streets and finally turned a corner, and as they did, the Queen came to an
abrupt stop. She looked up, and Gwen did, too.
Gwen gasped, in awe at the building
before her. It was a building unlike any Gwen had ever seen, built of shining
marble, with huge golden doors shaped in a tall arch, intricately carved. The
doors were adorned with golden images of books carved into them, and long,
tapered stained-glass windows lined the exterior. It resembled a church but was
more circular in shape, and even more impressive, set in the midst of an open
city square with nothing around it in every direction,
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