ORLANDA jolted upright as the soft but urgent knock rattled the old wooden door again. She had been pacing about the room, twisting the hem of her thin shirt in her trembling hands as she impatiently awaited Queen. The first knock had nearly knocked her heartbeat into her throat, but she didn’t move immediately.

She stood, one cautious step after another, until she was only inches from the door. Her fingertips brushed the cool wood, her ear pressed lightly to the rough surface, then she waited. Silence.

Then, came another knock.

Her heart thudded harder. She needed to be sure if it was Queen or not. So she drew in...