SEVENTEEN
Slowly but surely, Rosamond regained her strength. The garden bloomed as happily as she did. More than once, she had overheard the servants talking about it, but she refused to be deterred by idle talk. When she saw her father again, she wanted to appear as hale and healthful as the day she departed for King Erik and Queen Margareta's court.
After four weeks of spending every day in the garden, Rosamond decided it was time. On the morrow, she would don her finest gown – or at least the least faded gown in the chest of old clothes Draga had foisted on her – and proceed up to the palace, where she would seek an audience with the king and queen, and explain her plan for the future.
The best of intentions rarely survive until morning, especially when illness sets in. Rosamond's
