I covered my ears but could still hear it, could stillfeelit, vibrating off my bones, rattling the curves of my ribs and making the length of my sternum ache.
Not weeping.
Screaming.
As it died away, I dared to peek into the hall. I’d expected to hear shouts from servants calling for help, pounding footsteps and moans of torment, anything to explain away such anguish, but all was still. All was silent.
Again, the shriek.
It sounded like it was behind me now and I turned.
The gardens.
The greenhouse.
It was coming from outside.
I peered out the window, searching the darkened yard.
The cries lowered in tone, turning harsh and ugly, as if ripped from someone’s gut. Was it an animal, some unfortunate, cornered prey?
The full moon rained soft light over the garden, limning the edges of trees, catching outlines of statues, setting the quartz walkways to sparkle.
Then I saw it.
A large shape scurried out from under a canopy of trees.
It was a woman, tall, with long skirts trailing behind her. Caught by the moon, they glowed a strange and eerie blue.
I squinted. Was that Dauphine?
What was she doing out in the garden so late? Had she, too, heard the sounds and went to investigate?
I fumbled at the window, wanting to throw open the sash and ask if she was all right, ask if she needed help, but there was no opening. The panes were soldered shut. I rapped my knuckles on the glass instead, wanting to let her know she wasn’t alone, wanting to somehow guide her to safety.
She startled at the sound of my knocking and turned to face me. With a sharp twist, her neck wrenched at a terrible angle, an impossible angle. It looked as though it had snapped from her body. Then she opened her mouth and screamed again.
In my alarmed haste to back away from the window, I tripped over a tufted footstool, falling against the wooden floorboards and striking the side of a curio cabinet.
My cry of pain echoed in the chamber.
I sat up, wincing as I rubbed at the back of my head. I could already feel a bump forming, throbbing and tender and rising off my scalp like a goose egg. The room swayed unevenly around me as I crawled to the window.
When I looked outside, I realized I was seeing double.
Two women now stood in the garden, their white dresses gleaming, their attention trained on the manor.
On me.
Two women stared up.
I blinked, trying to regain my vision.
One woman screamed.
Then the other.
One strolled away, deeper into the garden.
