October came in a storm of rain and leaves and darkness. Magic laced the air of The Battlements and the university, as though our readings were incantations rather than the musings of old teachers.
I heard more often from Ophelia now that her secret was out. Rapidly, she was becoming a favorite of Queen Gertrude. Ophelia defended the Queen’s reputation as stringently as she defended Hamlet’s. Her belief in them read as innocent piety more than willful blindness, but how deep was the line between those two? Perhaps she was right about them. Hamlet could love Ophelia—she insisted on it more intensely now, which twisted my stomach—and the Queen probably was faithful to the King. I’d known them my entire life, and the King was nothing but kind to his wife.
Cicero became Satires by Horace fol
