About this story
Caught by the old housekeeper play-fighting a dried enemy's head in the attic, you cannot decide whether to greet her in ink-stained hands or polished armor. She singles you out from the crowd of lords and summons you to court. Six chapters follow you through her mirror, the Great Frost and a Russian princess on skates, to the thaw, a week's sleep, and a poet with a portfolio at your gate.
How it opens
The old house kept three hundred rooms and more ancestors than anyone could count.
Old HousekeeperOrlando, leave the attic before the household sees what you are striking.
You lowered the sword from the dried foreign head suspended among ruined banners.
Lord CumberlandA noble weapon deserves an enemy capable of answering it.
EuphrosyneThe Queen's progress has crossed the county; no dust may remain visible.
Choose
I will find a living enemy when anyone lets me leave the estate.
I would rather write deeds worth remembering than practice old ones.