“It defies the imagination, Filberth, it truly does!" Sandara announced to the old servant who shuffled into her room carrying a small armload of things. Filbert squinted nearsightedly at Dara, who was sprawled across the bed on her stomach, her small chin cupped in her hands.

"It positively boggles the mind," Sandara repeated in a voice reeking with disapproval. "What does, Miss Dara?" he inquired, approaching the bed. Squinting his eyes, he stared hard at the white object and  conclude that the object was a newspaper.

"It says here," Sandara informed him, tapping the newspaper dated April 28, 2010, with her forefinger, "that Lady Weatherford-Heath gave a ball for eight hundred people, followed by a supper consisting of no less than forty-five different dishes! Forty-five dishes! Can you conceive of such extravagance? Furthermore the article drones on and on about the people who attended the party and what they wore. Listen to this, Sarah," she said, looking up and smiling as Sarah padded into the room carrying an armload of freshly laundered linens.

Until Sandara's father died three years ago, Sarah had held the title of housekeeper, but as a result of the financial circumstances resulting from his death, she had been discharged along with all the other helper excepting Filbert and Penrose, who were both too old and infirm to find new employment. Now Sarah rely once a month, along with a girl to help out with the laundering and heavy cleaning.

Sandara’s quoted for Sarah's benefit, "Miss Shin Chae-Kyung was escorted by Prince Lee Shin. Miss Hyo-rin’s ivory silk gown was adorned with pearls and diamonds." Chuckling, Dara closed the paper and looked at Sarah. "Can you believe people actually want to read such tripe? Why would anyone care what gown somebody wore”

Sarah lifted her brows and stared disapprovingly at Dara's attire. "There are some young ladies who care about making the most of their appearance," she pointedly replied. Sandara accepted that well-intentioned gibe with cheerful, philosophical indifference. "It would take more than a little powder and to make me look like a grand lady." Dara's long-ago hope to emerge from a "cocoon" as a classically beautiful had not come at all. Instead, her short-cropped hair was dark, her chin was still small and stubborn, her nose still pert, and her body was just as slim and agile as a boy. In point of fact, however, her looks no longer concerned Dara in the least; she had other, more important matters to occupy her mind.

Three years ago, after the death of her grandfather was followed almost immediately by the demise of her father, Dara had become technically, inaccurately, the "man of the house." Into her youthful hands had fallen the job of looking after the two elderly servants, stretching the family budget, providing food for the table, and dealing with her mama's temper tantrums.

An ordinary girl, brought up in the ordinary way, would never have been able to rise to the challenge. But there was nothing ordinary about Sandara's appearance or her abilities. As a young girl, she had learned to fish and shoot for sport to become a good companion to her father when he came to visit. Now, with calm determination, she simply used those same skills to feed her family.

"Sarah?" she asked suddenly, as the same strange feeling of expectation she had occasionally experienced over the last three years gathered in her . "Did you ever have the feeling that something special was going to happen?"

Sarah briskly closed the drawers of the bureau and bustled over to the armoire. "Indeed I have."

 "Did the feeling come true?"

"It did."

"Really?"

"I've had this feeling now and then since shortly after Grandfather died, but it's been ever so much stronger and constant this past week. I feel as if I'm standing on a precipice, waiting for something that's about to happen."

Sarah studied her. "What is it you think is going to happen?"

Sandara shivered. "Something wonderful."

When  Dara had left, Sarah glowered gloomily at the empty room "Something wonderful," she snorted, thinking with bitter sorrow of the twenty one-year-old girl who was trying, without complaint, to carry the burden of a bizarre household whose only servants were a stooped, elderly butler who was too proud to admit he was going deaf and a hopelessly nearsighted footman. Sandara's family was as much a burden to her as her servants, Sarah thought with disgust. Mrs. Hyun Park, Sandara’s mother, who should have taken charge after Mr. Park died, had abdicated all responsibility for the running of Park House to Sandara, and was the greatest of Dara’s burdens.

She was passing her mother's room when Hyun called out in a frail but imperious voice, "Sandara! Sandara, is that you?"

The angry note in her mother's plaintive voice made Dara pause and mentally brace herself for what was bound to be another unpleasant confrontation with her mother over Will Helmsley. The three years since her husband's death had added decades to her mother's once-beautiful face, Dara thought sadly. It wasn't just grief that had ravaged her mother's face, Dara knew. It was also anger.

Three weeks after Chan’s Park death, a splendid car had drawn up at their house. In it was Dara’s beloved father's "other family", the wife and daughter he'd been living with in Seoul for over twelve years. He had kept his legitimate family tucked away in near-poverty in Morsham, while he lived with his illegitimate one in grand style. Even now, Dara winced with pain as she recalled that devastating day when she'd unexpectedly come face to face with her half-sister in this very house. The girl's name was Rose, and she was excessively pretty. But that didn't hurt Dara nearly so much as the beautiful gold locket Rose was wearing around her slender white throat. Chan Park had given it to her, just as he had given one to Dara. But Dara's was made of tin.

The tin locket, and the fact that he had chosen to live with the lovely little girl, made her father's opinion of Dara and her mother eloquently clear.

Only in one area had he treated both his families equally and that was in the matter of estate: He had died without a shilling to his name, leaving both families equally penniless. For her mother's sake, Dara had buried the pain of his betrayal in her heart and tried to behave normally, but her mother's grief had turned to rage. Mrs. Park had retired permanently to her rooms to nurse her fury, leaving everything else to Dara to handle. For two and a half years, Mrs Park had taken no interest in her household or her grieving daughter.

But six months ago Mrs.Park had realized that her situation might not be so hopeless as she'd thought. She had hit upon a means of escape from her plight and Sandara was to be that means. Sandara, she had decided, was going to have a husband who could rescue both of them from this impoverished life-style. To that end, Mrs. Park had turned her acquisitive attention to the various families in the neighborhood. Only one of them, the Helmsleys, had enough wealth to suit her, and so she decided upon their son Will despite the fact that he was a dull, greatly under the influence of his overpowering parents.

“ Mama, tomorrow, I'll ride out into the countryside and see if I can get something better. Just now, I'm leaving, and I won't be home until late."

"Late?" her mother gasped. "But you must be here tonight, and you must, must, must be on the most excellent behavior."

"I wouldn't marry Will Helmsley if it would save me from starving which we are not in the least danger of doing."

"Oh yes, you will," her mother said in a low, angry voice that sprang from a mixture of desperation and terror. "And you must comport yourself like the wellborn young lady you are. No more gallivanting about the countryside. The Helmsleys won't overlook a breath of scandal if it is attached to their future daughter-in-law."

"I am not their future anything!" Sandara said,. "I loathe Will Helmsley and for your information," she finished, "  Han Byul says Will Helmsley prefers young boys to girls!

The horror of that statement, which Dara only partially understood herself, sailed right over Mrs. Park's greying head. "Well, of course”most young men prefer other young men as companions. Although," Mrs. Park continued, "that may be exactly why he hasn't shown a strong reluctance to wed you, Sandara. You must begin wearing ladies clothes, even though young Will doesn't seem to object to your tomboy image”

 Dara said patiently, "Mama, I do not own a dress that is not inches above my knees”

Mrs. Park stopped pacing and glared at her. "I must say you're putting every obstacle you can think of in the way of your betrothal, but I mean to end this mockery of a life we've been living, Helmsley's son is the only hope we have. I realize that we have never been truly close, Sandara, but it is your father’s fault you've grown into the wild, unruly hoyden you are today, gallivanting about the countryside, shooting that rifle, and doing all manner of things you ought not."

Sandara retorted stiffly, "If I were the demure, vapid, helpless creature you seem to want me to be, this household would have starved long ago."

Mrs. Park had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. "What you say is true, but we cannot go on this way much longer. Despite your best efforts, we're in debt to everyone. I know I've not been a good mother these three years past, but I've come to my senses at last, and I must take steps to see you safely married."

"But I don't love Will Helmsley," Sandara burst out desperately.

 "Which is all to the good, then he can't hurt you as your father hurt me. Will comes from a steady, solid family. You won't find him keeping an extra wife, actually, we're very lucky Helmsley is so very pushing otherwise, I daresay he wouldn't have you for a daughter."

When Mrs. Lawrence fell into a pensive silence, Sandara shrugged and said, "I'm off to Han-Byuls. It's her brother's birthday today." "Perhaps it's better if you aren't present at supper," Mrs. Park said, "I believe the Helmsleys mean to broach the subject of the marriage tonight, and it wouldn't do to have you here frowning and looking mutinous."

"Mama, I would rather starve than marry Will."

“These matters are best left for adults to decide. Go along to Han Byul’s, but do wear a dress."

"I can't. In honor of Heechul’s birthday, we're going to have a costume party and the theme is medieval , you know, the sort of period about King Arthur, Robin Hood,  knights, barbarians, ring  any bells?. And I’m going as a knight"

"You're entirely too old to go parading about in that rusty old suit of armor Sandara. Leave it in the hallway where it belongs."

"No harm will come to it," Dara assured. "I'm only taking a shield, the helmet, the lance, and the plate."

"Oh, very well," her mother said with a weary shrug.