The wind whipped Beatrix’s long hair as they went at a gallop down the eastern road out of the capital. She laughed with childish delight at her newfound freedom. Never before had she felt so liberated, so able to act and behave exactly as she pleased, despite being one of the most powerful people in the country. Power came with responsibilities and sacrifices. But no longer was she prepared to sacrifice her very self for the sake of respect.
Soon, however, adult apprehension overcame her first few moments of joy. What had possessed her to do such a thing as this? Where was she going? Did she have any plan at all? What did she expect to gain from such a wild gamble?
Behind them, the castle slumbered on, unaware that the chain of events set in motion the night Roald died was speeding up with an inevitable force – a wheel gathering momentum with each rotation. Eventually, it would be unstoppable as the rain.
But not yet.