Kirsten meticulously performed every chore asked of her, every courtesy required. Unsmiling, unyielding, she went through her hours like a puppet in a parade. As they made ready for their trip to Schoenfeld, Kirsten packed and checked, then re-checked and packed again, wondering if the pitiful collection of household items she saw on the wagons were going to be enough to live on.The journey to Schoenfeld lasted two days slow going, part of the way in the rain. To Kirsten it seemed like two years, but at last they arrived. The manor house itself, while not large, looked warm and inviting to her eyes. The spring weather had turned nasty and chilly again, as if winter wanted to personally bid her one final farewell at the castle and had come just a little too late. She rushed from the her father’s carriage to the front door, slumping there to wait on Gustav or one of his guards to come open the wide oak door carved with all sorts of strange animals and figures.Expecting to find the interior cold and cheerless, Kirsten was pleasantly surprised to follow Gustav’s man, Wern, into the entrance hall and feel a warm glow.
