Kingdom of Moonlight

Chapter One Royce walked alone in the gardens of his ancestral home. The sun was setting, gilding every leaf and blade of grass with its last gifts of the day. As he watched night seep over the land, he looked out toward the sea, following the silver trail of the risen moon. In the stillness of the moment, there rose from deep within him the sense that he stood on the edge of something shadowy and undefined, yet momentous. Indeed, so powerful was the sensation that without thought, he raised a hand as though to seize it. The day had been long and he was tired, and thus perhaps it was that as he stood there with hand outstretched, breathing in the fragrance of stone and sea, he thought, just thought, he caught the scent of lemons . . . Drifting on the night air, mingling with the jasmine, thyme and oleander to weave the fragrance she had known all her life here in Akora, home and prison both. How she longed to leave it, how she would miss it when she did. Kassandra sighed and laid her head on folded arms, gazing out beyond the high windows of the palace to the sea turned silver by the risen moon. Moon that cast the ribbon of a road leading . . . where? Into which of all the futures lying just beyond the next breath, the next moment? For once, she could not see it, could only feel. In the feeling, she reached out her hand and for just an instant, touched another's. London, April 1812 Through the thin soles of her silk slippers, she felt the thickness of the Persian rugs varying with the smoothness of the polished floors over which she passed as she made her way along the corridor from her bedroom to the stairs. The curving banister was slick and cool beneath her palm. The house smelled of lemon oil, dried roses, the lavender water used to scent the linens, and faintly of vinegar, for all the drains had been cleaned the day before, as they were weekly. The dove-gray light of morning softened every edge, blurring color that would emerge only in the full glare of day to withdraw again into shadow when night came and the lamps were lit. One night she had been there, one glorious night since setting foot on the quay at Southwark. Her first glimpse of London seen from the great river had exposed the limits of her fantasies, paltry when compared to the stunning reality. So, too, the ride through the crowded streets, brimming with people, smells not entirely or even mainly pleasant, and a din so impressive that the keeners for the dead would fall silent with envy. Never had she imagined such a place, for all that she had imagined a great deal, dreaming there in Ilius of the journey she longed to make. Was making. She was here, glorious here, and the enormity of that had kept her wide-eyed and wakeful as all around her the house slept. Until she could bear it no longer and having dressed herself, an awkward process for all that she had practiced before arriving, came tiptoeing down to pause in the hushed hall and . . .listen. She could hear the city, only faintly to be sure, for the house was surrounded by generous lawns and gardens, and further sheltered by a high stone wall. But beyond the twittering of birds already darting after worms, the whisper of a breeze in the fragile spring leaves, and the occasional murmur of voices from the distant kitchen, she could just make out the creak of wagon wheels and the clop of hooves ringing on cobblestone streets. Delight jolted her. The sounds were proof that the city really did exist and she was really in it. She did not merely dream of following the silver ribbon of the moon road over the sea, as she had on so many nights lingering at the palace windows when she should have been abed. As she would be now but for the excitement that thrummed within her. She laughed and twirled, the jonquil-yellow of her skirt belling out around her, her arms flung wide to embrace the new day in so wondrous a place. So Royce first saw her. ThLitton, Josie is the author of 'Kingdom of Moonlight' with ISBN 9780553583908 and ISBN 0553583905.