There really had been a palace in an ancient city called Ervahan, and there had been a revolution, and the palace had been destroyed, and the family that had ruled the country had been driven into exile. Amelia had checked. She found it in a book. The only clue she had was the name of the city, Ervahan, and she didn’t even know where Ervahan was. But the school librarian helped her track it down. It was in a country called Irafia. The book they found was called A History of Irafia, and went back hundreds and hundreds of years. It wasn’t an easy book to read, written in a very dry, uninteresting fashion, but it was bloodcurdling enough, with deception and violence and murderous wars on a monumental scale. Princes always seemed to be plotting against the ruler of the country to get hold of the throne, only to be plotted against themselves. The stories of treachery and bloodshed in the book would have been as scary as anything Amelia had ever read if only the whole thing had been written more excitingly.
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