Mortuus Virgo

Начало книги

Rubria was playing with her dolly the day the soldiers came for her, completely oblivious to the muffled voices outside that would take her away for ever.

She had been a very good girl. The bed was made, the wooden rocking horse that had been so lovingly crafted by the estate carpenter was pushed into the corner, and even her clothes were stacked neatly on the shelves. She looked at her pretty dresses, not quite sure why she couldn’t take them all but mummy said she had to wear the white one, even though the pink one with the ribbons was her favourite.

‘Is it time, Maria?’ she asked, her fingers playing nervously with her dolly’s hair.

‘Not yet, sweetheart,’ answered the servant, trying her best to hold back the tears that were building up like a dammed river behind her eyes.

‘Don’t be sad, Maria,’ said Rubria, ‘Mummy said that I am going somewhere nice and am going to be a very important person.’

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