Free Afton of Margate Castle by Angela Elwell Hunt

lily-padded moat and into the castle yard. As she trotted behind her new friend, she gathered her courage to make an observation. “I thought you did not want to come out. A moment ago, when your mother asked you to take me--”
    “I hate doing what mother tells me to do,” Lienor interrupted, whirling to face Afton. “She’s always telling me what I have to do to be a lady. I actually like wandering around the castle, but I’m not permitted to go out alone and the maids are always busy. But now that you’re here, I hope I’ll be able to do what I like.”
    Afton was shocked by the force behind Lienor’s words. How could anyone hate the gracious Lady Endeline? But Lienor’s eyes burned with the fire of righteous indignation, and Afton did not want to risk being burned by her chosen companion. She managed a weak smile. “What do you like to do?”
    Lienor’s eyes twinkled and she tilted her head. “Whatever my brothers do. Come on, I’ll race you to the kitchens.”
    Lienor turned and sprinted away, and Afton ran behind her for two steps before she slowed to a steady jog. Perhaps Lienor would not appreciate too much eagerness in a new friend. It was probably not wise to outrun Perceval’s fiery little daughter on Afton’s first day in the castle.
    ***
    “Before William the Conqueror set sail for England in 1066, Margate was a crude castle,” Eleanor said, rapping the table for emphasis. Afton’s eyes were heavy. She had not slept much the night before, and she was not accustomed to sitting still at a table for lessons. “The people here were at the mercy of the Saxon master who ruled from the top of this hill. But the Conqueror from Normandy and the Battle of Hastings changed everything.”
    Eleanor glanced at Lienor, who gazed out the window with a bored expression on her face. “What happened after the battle, Lienor?”
    Lienor didn’t take her eyes from the window, and she spoke flatly: “The Saxon ruler was killed, his lands confiscated, and all English lands were combined into fewer than two hundred estates.”
    “Aye,” Eleanor nodded in satisfaction. “This estate, where you now sit, Afton, was awarded to Lionel, Lienor’s grandfather. Today your lord Perceval rules these lands.”
    Afton nodded. That much she knew.
    “Lionel civilized Margate Castle, enlarging the castle and building a larger wall around the castle estate. He was a strong ruler, and our Lord Perceval has continued in his father’s way. Margate is now one of the largest and finest castles in England.”
    Eleanor raised her head proudly, and Afton nodded slowly. There was no need to convince her of the castle’s greatness, for it contained riches and luxury that eclipsed everything she had ever known.
    Eleanor looked again at Lienor, and a frown crossed her face. “I suppose that is enough for today, girls,” she said, crossing her arms. “Run along outside. I have other work to do.”
    Lienor smiled for the first time that morning, and bolted for the door, pausing only for a moment to make certain that Afton followed. Then the girls flew down the stairs, out of the castle, and into the courtyard.
    Outside the main castle keep and its shallow moat were other buildings Afton had not yet fully explored: a two-story kitchen, stables, a mews for housing Perceval’s hunting falcons, a smithy, an orchard and garden, a women’s work area, Hector’s humble house, and a walled pool near the back of the castle wall.
    “That’s for the horses and the laundresses,” Lienor said, jerking her chin toward the water. “Though sometimes my brothers like to splash around in there.”
    “Where does the water come from?” Afton asked, looking for magical spigots like those in the castle.
    Lienor shrugged. “From outside. There’s a stream outside the wall, and a pipe or something lets the water in. We can play there sometimes, but the maids will tell mama if they see us.”
    Encompassing the castle courtyard with its outbuildings