"There's a letter for you, Lieutenant Jackson," A footman named Travis called to Percy as he entered his room.
Travis was one of two brothers who worked at Skye Castle and had been assigned as Percy's valet.
"Thank you, Travis," Percy replied.
The footman left the tray on Percy's writing desk. On it were a cup of coffee, a slice of blueberry bundt cake, and the letter Travis spoke of. Percy recognized Rachel's wax seal on the envelope: a raven sitting on the branch of a laurel tree.

As he cracked open the seal, Percy took a bite out of his bundt cake. Blueberry bundt cake was his favorite food though no one made it better than his mother. She put the juice of the blue in the batter to make it blue.

"My dearest Percy," Rachel's letter read. "I received the strangest letter the other day from a Miss Chase. She had taken it upon herself to inform me that you had been flirting with her during your stay with the Duke and Duchess. The poor girl was convinced that I was your sweetheart and that you had jilted me..."
Damn her, Percy thought, how dare she.
Miss Chase had no right to go and bother Rachel with her harebrained assumptions.
The rest of Rachel's letter implored him to sit Miss Chase down and explain the situation to her. Tell her that she had not trespassed on another young lady's property. But Percy brushed off the advice. He had done nothing wrong and did not need to explain himself. If Miss Chase had such a low opinion of his character then she was not the woman for him.

Percy spent the morning in his room answering letters. At noon, he removed the grey and white banyan he wore over his buff colored waistcoat and brown breeches, and put on a dark blue jacket.

Noon was when Jason told every one to be in the library for the first read through of A Midsummer Night's Dream.
The entrance to the library was small and narrow. Jason had to duck his head slightly to get through. One would expected a poky little room on the other side and the vast expanse of mahogany shelves always took first time visitors by surprise.

The shelves took up most of the wall space and were cluttered with marble busts of Roman emperors and Greek philosophers, Chinese porcelain vases, dusty maps and prints, and more books than it was possible to read in one life time. When Miss Chase first beheld their selection, she looked as though she had died and gone to heaven.

The floor was spread with Turkish carpets, tables for perusing books, prints, and maps, class cases containing curiosities which generations of the Grace family had collected during their travels, and comfortable leather upholstered chairs and sofas.

Jason was carrying a heavy looking pile of books down from a rolling step ladder. He handed each member of the cast a copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream as they entered the library.
The seating arrangement changed from scene to scene. Jason and Miss Chase sat together on a sofa to act out the opening.
"Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour
draws on apace," Jason read aloud. "Four happy days bring in another moon but, O, methinks, how slow
this old moon wanes! She lingers my desires, like to a step-dame or a dowager, long withering out a young man revenue."
"Four days will quickly steep themselves in night," Miss Chase replied. "Four nights will quickly dream away the time; and then the moon, like to a silver bow new-bent in heaven, shall behold the night of our solemnities."
"Go, Philostrate. Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments. Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth. Turn melancholy forth to funerals; the pale companion is not for our pomp. Hippolyta, I woo'd thee with my sword and won thy love, doing thee injuries. But I will wed thee in another key, with pomp, with triumph and with revelling."
Jason was still in his riding dress, a pair of nankeen breeches and a grey redingote, from his morning jaunt with Tempest. His boots still had dried mud on them.

Reyna interrupted his reading to scold him for tracking dirt on the expensive Kermanshah carpet.
Miss Chase wore the bluish grey jacket and skirt she had worn on the morning they left Olympus. Its slate color made her eyes look steely and sharp, like the blade of a sword- the eyes of a warrior queen who had to be wooed by the sword. Percy had yet to see the man who could bring Miss Chase to heel.

Mr. Vitellius, one of His Grace's neighbors, called after dinner that afternoon. He was a frequent visitor to Skye Castle and was paying court to Dona Reyna. Her Grace gave everyone a knowing smile when Vitellius asked to speak to Dona Reyna alone and shooed everyone out of the drawing room.
About a half-hour later, the poor man left emerged looking like a whipped dog. Dona Reyna ran in the other direction, mumbling words in Spanish which Nico imagined were the foulest of obscenities.
Only Hazel was brave enough to ask her what had happened.
"He asked me to marry him," Dona Reyna explained in a matter of fact tone.
"And what did you say to him?" Hazel enquired.
"That his breath smells stale and I would rather be hung, drawn, and quartered than be his wife."
Though this was a dreadful thing to say, Nico could not help but laugh. He did not have anything against Vitellius but the man was some thing of a bore. He was pleasant looking but not handsome with thinning brown hair hair and dog-like brown eyes, and rheumatic joints, and followed Dona Reyna around like a faithful old hound. His idea of the perfect evening was to sit at home by the fire, reading aloud from almanacs and books of sermons- not the sort of life a spirited, intelligent, and passionate young woman like Dona Reyna would want.
"But Mr. Vitellius is such a nice man," Hazel said in the rejected suitor's defense. "Everyone speaks well of him."
"Everyone speaks well of him," Nico added. "But no one ever remembers to speak to him."
"Come outside for a walk with me," Dona Reyna asked the two siblings. "I'm sick and tired of being cooped up in doors."

Nico walked arm in arm with Hazel through the gardens. In front of them, swished the light blue skirt, bobbed the dark blue feathered hat, and twirled the purple parasol of Dona Reyna.

She was quiet and brooding during the walk. The only sound she made was the unladylike stomping of her maroon half boots.

The entire household could tell that she was in love with Lord Skye and had seen her try to impress him with her skills in languages and horsemanship only to have him fall in love with another girl. Nico imagined that to be offered a dull old codger like Vitellius in place of Lord Skye must have seemed like a slap in the face.
"I'm Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano," she had told the Duchess when Her Grace scolded her for turning down a respectable match. "My family is one of the oldest and grandest in Spain and I'll be damned if I'm wasted on an insignificant country squire. I know my worth, madam, even if others don't."
At the words "even if others don't" she had cast a subtle glance at Lord Skye. The man was a fool if he did not love her.
Miss Chase was clever with her quips and schemes but Dona Reyna was truly brilliant. She could speak Latin and Ancient Greek fluently, converse about complex history and philosophy with ease, and showed a true appreciation of Hazel's drawings, Nico's poems, and Miss McLean's playing. Miss McLean was lovely with her graceful figure and regular features which resembled a marble bust of Venus but Dona Reyna was striking. Her form was lithe and powerful and moved with strength and purpose and her flashing dark eyes command your attention. Heads turned when she walked by and followed her as she went.
Nico sometimes wondered if he himself was in love with her. He had never been in love before so he could not tell. Mostly, he was indifferent to women. He could appreciate feminine beauty and virtue on an aesthetic and intellectual level but they did not effect him emotionally. Even if he was in love with her, he doubted that she would feel the same.
They came to the temple of Apollo in the rose garden. Nico could see the hermitage on the other side of the pond.
"Let's go walk over there," he suggested out of impulse.
The sun was beginning to set. It turned the sky a rosy pink color and bathed the grounds of Skye Castle in a warm, golden light. Nico could smell the slightly lemony scent of the roses which grew around the hermitage and climbed onto its walls.
"Captain of our fairy band," Mr. Solace declared from underneath the yew tree where he sat with his copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream on his lap. "Helena is here at hand, and the youth, mistook by me, pleading for a lover's fee. Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be!"
Solace stood up when they saw him and swept a courtly bow.
"Good evening folks," he greeted them with a cheeky grin. "Mr. Di Angelo, have you come to pick some more of my roses for your pretty sister?"
Nico flushed and scowled. With that insolent smirk and the merry, mischievous twinkle in his eyes, he could see why they chose him to play the puckish Robin Goodfellow.
"No," Nico replied. "We were just taking a walk."
"May I join you?"
Before Nico could say "no, damn you," Solace offered Hazel his arm and the two began to walk back up to the rose garden. Hazel looked pretty that day in brown redingote and skirt worn over a white cravat, fichu, and waistcoat. A conical straw hat decorated with red silk rosettes was perched atop her cinnamon colored curls. The redingote was adorned with a green bow which matched her parasol.

"What news from the castle?" he asked her.
"Dona Reyna received a marriage proposal," Hazel replied.
"Who's the lucky man?"
"Unlucky, I should say. She refused him."
Dona Reyna groaned.
"Can we not talk about that. I went on this walk to forget about it."
Nico and Reyna walked together in silence while Hazel and Solace chatted about the latest gossip from Skye Castle.
"At the theater, we had a run in with the notorious Captain Castellan," Hazel told him. "He's still hanging about Lady Thalia. Miss Chase caused quite a sensation by being alone with him in the box."
Nico rolled his eyes.
"Gossiping with the hermit," he whispered to Dona Reyna. "I can't think of anything more vulgar."
"I heard that, Nico!" Hazel cut in.
"What are you two love birds whispering about?" Solace asked Nico and Reyna.
The two winced at the suggestion.
"I'm bored with this walk," Dona Reyna huffed, "Lets turn back."

Hazel asked to speak with Nico after dinner. They walked down the newly built gothic corridor. Nico remembered Miss Chase going into raptures over the lacy, gilded moldings, copied from gothic cathedrals. The gold designs were striking against the white plaster roof and wooden wainscoting and the red velvet wallpaper.

"Why are you so rude to Mr. Solace?" Hazel asked him.
"I wasn't being rude," Nico insisted. "I just didn't think it was appropriate for you to gossip with servants."
"I'm not just talking about that. Whenever's he's around, you've been peevish and I can't understand why."
"He's insolent and aggravating."
"I've always found him merry and charming."
"There's something about the man that irks me, I can't put my finger on it."
Being around Solace sent his head reeling and his pulse racing. His skin crawled, his face flushed, and he felt as though someone had kicked him down a hill. Everything about the hermit made him flustered: the mischievous glint in his blue eyes, his puckish grin, his scruffy blond beard, his old, patched up suit, and his lovely, birdlike singing.
Nico hated him for making him feel this way.