I go back inside, quietly closing the balcony doors behind me, and hurry over to the bell to call for Harriet. It takes her a couple of minutes to arrive, and when she does, she looks like she had been sleeping when I rang for her.
“There’s something happening out there,” I say urgently. “Some people were coming toward the castle in cloaks. Is everything okay?”
The sleep vanishes from her eyes, replaced by a sharp look. “I’ll go check. In the meantime, please bolt your doors from the inside.”
Sitting in my nightgown, I wait anxiously once she leaves. An hour passes, then another. There’s no word from Harriet, and the shouting outside has long since died down. My heart is racing. Is she alright? Was there an attack on the castle? Should I go out and check?
When the third hour passes, I
