Free Castle of Shadows by Ellen Renner Page A

Mrs O’Dair disliked her, but what she had glimpsed in the housekeeper’s eyes was pure poisonous hatred. O’Dair lunged to her feet, corsets popping, sailed to the door and flung it open.
    ‘Follow me, girl. You’re to learn Latin grammar and Mathematics.’ O’Dair snorted derisively but did not speakagain as she wheezed and creaked her way to the attics, moving so quickly that Charlie had to run to keep up.
    Flinging open the door of a room, the housekeeper thrust Charlie inside. The thin, elderly man sitting behind the desk clambered to his feet. ‘I beg your pardon?’
    ‘Your charge,’ Mrs O’Dair snapped. ‘Make what you will of her, but you are to have her four hours a day, and that is four hours I shall not have to bother with the creature!’
    The old man drew himself up. ‘The Prime Minister has given me his instructions for Her Royal Highness.’
    The housekeeper turned and left, slamming the door behind her.
    ‘What a singularly unpleasant woman!’ The old man collapsed into his chair, mopping his forehead with a large handkerchief. ‘Oh!’ He stared at Charlie in dismay and bounced to his feet. ‘Do forgive me!’ He waved his handkerchief in agitation. ‘May I sit in your presence, ma’am?’
    Charlie’s mouth fell open. ‘Why shouldn’t you?’
    ‘Protocol, ma’am. Protocol. Oh dear,’ he said as she continued to stare blankly at him. ‘The Prime Minister told me that you were sadly undereducated. I thought he meant academically, but I see you are unschooled in a range of subjects. Would you care to sit at that desk, ma’am, while we endeavour to find out the extent of your ignorance?’
    Charlie looked where he was pointing and saw abrightly varnished school desk complete with inkwell and quill. Full of trepidation, she slid into the seat. Her teacher sat at his desk.
    ‘First, allow me to introduce myself: Professor Archibald Meadowsweet. You may call me “Professor”.’ He jumped to his feet and bowed stiffly from the waist. Charlie found herself staring at the bald pink circle on top of his head and had to smother a hysterical giggle. Not certain what the polite response was, she stood, too.
    ‘No, no!’ said the Professor, shaking his head so violently that his white hair stuck out like a halo of candyfloss. ‘Do not stand, ma’am. Incline your head graciously, like this.’ He demonstrated. The top of his head now looked like a pink-eyed daisy. Charlie burst out laughing.
    ‘Really, ma’am,’ he said, shaking his head sadly, ‘I see little that is humorous in our situation.’
    Two hours later, Charlie could only agree. She was eleven years old, and it seemed that she knew almost nothing.
    ‘Mathematics, little; Latin, Greek, Modern Languages, none; Geography and Statecraft, none; Biology, Chemistry, none; Physics, none; History, little…’ On and on droned the professor, peering at his notes, while Charlie sank lower and lower in her chair. ‘Spelling and Vocabulary, good; Reading, excellent; Grammar, adequate; knowledge of Literature, haphazard; Etiquette, none; Deportment, little.’ The Professor sighed, took hishandkerchief and mopped at his large forehead. ‘Oh dear,’ he said. ‘Where to start?’
     
    Charlie trudged down the third flight of stairs. It was lunchtime, and she was exhausted. Half an hour each of History, Mathematics and Latin, followed by a lecture on Etiquette. Her brain felt wrung out.
    The Prime Minister had ordered that she eat all her meals in the lesser dining room. Three times a day she had to sit all alone at the vast polished table with her plate floating in the middle of the shiny dark wood like a raft lost at sea. There was no question of reading at the table. She had to concentrate on the food. It made the mutton taste stringier, the vegetables soggier, the pudding thicker. Mrs O’Dair had been forced to increase her rations, but she made sure the food served to Charlie was as unpleasant as possible.
    Worst of all were the