person—
such as myself!
—to travel about the castle shielded from human eyes.
The sound of footsteps roused me from my contemplations, and I lunged through the closest portal. Not a moment too soon, for a manservant entered the ex-room with a lantern and a bouquet, as Sophia expected fresh flowers every morn. Methodically he passed through the ex-room
into her privy chambers, shutting each door behind him, while I secretly observed, near hugging myself with delight at this most amazing turn of events.
***
Oh, the vistas that opened for me that night. Every major wall in the castle contained a secret passageway, the portals always marked by a hedgehog: gilded on ex-rooms, carved into obscure walls and panels, even woven into tapestries. (In the light of day I would discover a hedgehog scratched on the wall of my cell; I had never before noted it.) Through the veiled openings of these portals I observed corridors, parlors, reception areas, the throne room, the ballroom, the grand and desolate king's apartment, workrooms, armories, and stockrooms. The very soul of caution, I refrained from stepping through a single doorway ... until I reached the royal larders. Stacked before me, a veritable oasis, rose shelf after laden shelf of food. My heart beat fast; my hands began to shake so that my handful of light trembled, then perished. With a cursory test of the doorway, reassuring myself I could reenter, I leapt into the room.
One might assume, given knowledge of my passions, that I would embark on a complete orgy of consumption. This
assumption would be correct. And yet, half mad with desire though I was, I had sense enough to avoid the rarest and most notable items. Frosted cakes perched upon their own shelf, for example, I gave wide berth, as cooks monitor such precious foodstuffs most carefully. Instead I enjoyed the oddest but most delectable feast one could imagine: three apples from a packed bin, fistfuls of dried fruit, a moldy quarter of tart that would not be missed, slabs of smoked ham from a half-finished haunch, a mouthwatering spoonful of tallow—well, two spoonfuls; large spoonfuls—a cupful of sugar, deliciously crunchy, more apples still ... I soon felt quite ill, but continued to gorge in compensation for my months of imposed restraint. Famine, as they say, makes all food a feast.
Finally I halted, my cloak soiled with grease and jam. Why was it that jam always coated me so? I noticed, horrified, that my footprints covered the floor, first gray from dust, then white as I trod back and forth through a patch of flour I had not even noticed. Frantically I scrubbed away this evidence, grateful for my recent education in housekeeping. A second scare came when I could not locate the hedgehog! But no, I had simply mistaken the scratched outline for a random graffito.
Return proved far more strenuous than I had anticipated.
The passageway, though I continued to remind myself that this was illusion, felt ever narrower and more constricting. My physical discomfort grew to intense nausea as I ascended one narrow staircase after another, for the kitchens of course occupied the castle's basement, and my cell the highest tower.
At one point, passing an opening to the servants' quarters, I near exclaimed in surprise. Shuffling toward me, clear as day in the moonlight that poured through a high window, was none other than my tormentor Hildebert, doubtless on her way to the privy. Ill tempered from queasiness, giving no thought whatsoever to the consequences of this rash act, I impulsively decided to exact revenge for the abuse to which the ogress had for so long subjected me. As she neared the portal, I thrust my head through the veil. How horrifying it must have looked, my face materializing out of the wall before her. Adding to the nightmare, I rolled my eyes in a most ghoulish manner.
I can recall few times in my life when disappointment leveled me as profoundly as it did at that instant. Hildebert glanced at my
such as myself!
—to travel about the castle shielded from human eyes.
The sound of footsteps roused me from my contemplations, and I lunged through the closest portal. Not a moment too soon, for a manservant entered the ex-room with a lantern and a bouquet, as Sophia expected fresh flowers every morn. Methodically he passed through the ex-room
into her privy chambers, shutting each door behind him, while I secretly observed, near hugging myself with delight at this most amazing turn of events.
***
Oh, the vistas that opened for me that night. Every major wall in the castle contained a secret passageway, the portals always marked by a hedgehog: gilded on ex-rooms, carved into obscure walls and panels, even woven into tapestries. (In the light of day I would discover a hedgehog scratched on the wall of my cell; I had never before noted it.) Through the veiled openings of these portals I observed corridors, parlors, reception areas, the throne room, the ballroom, the grand and desolate king's apartment, workrooms, armories, and stockrooms. The very soul of caution, I refrained from stepping through a single doorway ... until I reached the royal larders. Stacked before me, a veritable oasis, rose shelf after laden shelf of food. My heart beat fast; my hands began to shake so that my handful of light trembled, then perished. With a cursory test of the doorway, reassuring myself I could reenter, I leapt into the room.
One might assume, given knowledge of my passions, that I would embark on a complete orgy of consumption. This
assumption would be correct. And yet, half mad with desire though I was, I had sense enough to avoid the rarest and most notable items. Frosted cakes perched upon their own shelf, for example, I gave wide berth, as cooks monitor such precious foodstuffs most carefully. Instead I enjoyed the oddest but most delectable feast one could imagine: three apples from a packed bin, fistfuls of dried fruit, a moldy quarter of tart that would not be missed, slabs of smoked ham from a half-finished haunch, a mouthwatering spoonful of tallow—well, two spoonfuls; large spoonfuls—a cupful of sugar, deliciously crunchy, more apples still ... I soon felt quite ill, but continued to gorge in compensation for my months of imposed restraint. Famine, as they say, makes all food a feast.
Finally I halted, my cloak soiled with grease and jam. Why was it that jam always coated me so? I noticed, horrified, that my footprints covered the floor, first gray from dust, then white as I trod back and forth through a patch of flour I had not even noticed. Frantically I scrubbed away this evidence, grateful for my recent education in housekeeping. A second scare came when I could not locate the hedgehog! But no, I had simply mistaken the scratched outline for a random graffito.
Return proved far more strenuous than I had anticipated.
The passageway, though I continued to remind myself that this was illusion, felt ever narrower and more constricting. My physical discomfort grew to intense nausea as I ascended one narrow staircase after another, for the kitchens of course occupied the castle's basement, and my cell the highest tower.
At one point, passing an opening to the servants' quarters, I near exclaimed in surprise. Shuffling toward me, clear as day in the moonlight that poured through a high window, was none other than my tormentor Hildebert, doubtless on her way to the privy. Ill tempered from queasiness, giving no thought whatsoever to the consequences of this rash act, I impulsively decided to exact revenge for the abuse to which the ogress had for so long subjected me. As she neared the portal, I thrust my head through the veil. How horrifying it must have looked, my face materializing out of the wall before her. Adding to the nightmare, I rolled my eyes in a most ghoulish manner.
I can recall few times in my life when disappointment leveled me as profoundly as it did at that instant. Hildebert glanced at my
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