Stolen Splendor Read Free

milady. Two
carts have collided just ahead, and a fine horse is down, its leg broken, looks
like to me."
    "How terrible!" Kassandra gasped, feeling a
sick knot in her stomach at the thought of the stricken creature. She loved
horses. Riding was like life to her.
    "A pity it is, too, those damn fools. Rushing
along the crowded street like that, their carts full of heavy water barrels.
I'd like to take my whip to 'em both!"
    "Is there anything we can do?" Kassandra
asked, peering out the window at the curious crowd pressing in around the
accident.
    "No, milady. They'll see to it soon enough."
Grunting his displeasure, Zoltan glanced over his shoulder at the wreckage
strewn about the street just twenty feet away. "It's fortunate we were no
closer, else we might have been caught in the middle. Now we'll have to wait
until the mess is cleared away . . . hopefully no more than a half hour."
    Kassandra sat back against the seat at this news, her
mind racing. A half hour! That was far too much precious time to waste sitting
in this carriage.
    No, she decided quickly, she would set out on her own
and meet Zoltan later in the afternoon. This place was as good as any other to
begin her stroll, though she would have wished it had been under different
circumstances. But now she would not have Zoltan dogging her every step with
the carriage.
    Gathering her cape around her, Kassandra held out her
hand to him. "Please help me down, Zoltan."
    The coachman did as she requested, a puzzled look on his face. "Milady?"
    "I have far too much to do this afternoon to spare
even a half hour," Kassandra said, stepping onto the cobbled street. She
quickly looked about her to get her bearings, recognizing the name of the street
posted high on a corner sign. She was in the market district. She turned back
to Zoltan. "I shall meet you at four o'clock in the square in front of St.
Stephen's Cathedral. That should give me enough time to complete my
errands."
    "Ye shall walk, milady?" Zoltan asked,
incredulous. These English! Why would she choose to walk about the city when
she had a fine carriage at her beck and call? He shrugged. It was not for him
to say what the nobility could, or could not do.
    "Yes," Kassandra murmured, reaching inside
her bag. She pulled out a few coins and handed them to him. "I know there
must be taverns nearby where you can find some refreshment, Zoltan. Now I must
be on my way."
    "Thank ye, milady." Zoltan nodded, the coins
heavy in his hand, and flashed a toothy grin. The promise of a frothy mug of
beer or two and a hearty lunch of sausage and fried potatoes cheered him
considerably, especially after the miserable disaster he had witnessed. He
tipped his cap to her. "St. Stephen's Cathedral, then, at four o'clock."
    Kassandra barely heard him as she hurried from the
carriage down a crowded side street, a sense of exhilaration coursing through
her. She was on her own . . . at last! And with an entire afternoon to spend
exactly as she wished!
    Such sights, sounds, and smells surrounded her as she
strolled up one twisting street and down another. Common people of many
races—Germanic, Latin, Slav—passed by her, their languages as diverse as the
rustic costumes they wore. Street urchins, most of them accomplished pickpockets,
careened through the crowds, preying lightheartedly on the nobility, the men
dad in black velvet coats lined with rose-colored satin over embroidered gold
waistcoats, with powdered periwigs, white silk stockings, and red-heeled shoes;
and their ladies wrapped in capes trimmed with luxurious fur, or edged with
bright red satin and gold lace.
    Kassandra had never before seen a city where the
aristocrats mixed so freely with the common people . . . so unlike London. And
it seemed the entire town was composed of palaces, whether they be the homes of the wealthy, middle-class, or the poor.
Three- and four-story buildings towered above the shadowed streets, their
gleaming white facades decorated with all manner of