The castle was already there in the lake. She tried to tell them, to show them, but they only stared at her with the embarrassed, biting sort of pity they always had. How could they not see it, when the golden spires of its reflection rippled clear as the sun on even the cloudiest days?

How could they not understand what it meant? The shore above the castle’s reflection was as empty as a wound – something was out of place in the world. That was why, it had to be why, so many strange, unfortunate things happened around the lake. Luck and time and life and unwary travellers must have been simply falling into that wound.

But she, with the education they seemed to pity as well, could heal it. She could build that vision in the lake, match reality to the reflection. Then, at last, they would understand. They would see what she had in its waters and misfortunes all along.