“I don’t belong here, thought Solveig. I never will. This place is too grand for me. And I don’t like the way Maria’s servants keep buzzing and hovering around me. Then a beardless man who might have been thirty or fifty or even seventy was admitted with a message for Maria, but after this the two girls were left on their own for a while. Or so Solveig supposed. Maria widened her cinnamon eyes, dark and shining. ‘Behind tapestries,’ she warned Solveig. ‘At keyholes. Always eyes, always ears.’ Ex...cept that the way Maria pronounced the word sounded more like ‘yezz’. ‘Always speak in a low voice,’ Maria murmured. I wish I had a voice like yours, thought Solveig. Like summer bees in a meadow. ‘Your father,’ said Maria. ‘You come because of him?’ Solveig nodded. ‘I had to,’ she replied. ‘I was so lonely. I missed him.’ Maria nodded, and Solveig noticed how, when she did so, the muscles in her graceful neck twitched. Maria waited for Solveig to say more and, for just a moment, Solveig found herself wondering whether Maria herself could be a spy, working for the Empress and waiting for Solveig to incriminate herself.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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