This creepy little story of mine has been published on The Wild Word! Read an excerpt below…

Freya ventured to the lake at every possibility, resting her back against a large rock, sketching and drawing in her little notebook or painting on her canvas and dreaming her big dreams. Of her art hanging in the major galleries in Berlin, New York and London, instead of on the walls of her small town neighbours. Of going to swanky parties with all the right people, instead of playing house with seven kids she had no hand in creating. Of being kissed by strong and handsome men instead of expected to marry the first butter-churner who asked her father for her hand in marriage. Freya didn’t believe in the ghost stories of the lake, yet she secretly hoped that something would happen. But nothing ever happened. Until one day, it did.

It was a normal summer day in Schönbrunn, much like any other. Freya was sitting on the bank of the lake, her fingers around a charcoal pencil, her thoughts a few worlds away. She was thinking about Agata, the baker’s daughter, who was leaving Schönbrunn to work as an au pair for a family in Sweden. Freya was angry. Once again, she was being left behind. Once again, someone had an opportunity that she would never have. Blinded by her angry tears, she didn’t notice the water beginning to ripple or the willows stretching their tendrils out in warning. She didn’t notice the figure slowly wending its way out of the lake, over the stones, until The Lady was almost upon her.

Read the full story on The Wild Word!

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