Penelope Featherington was given a gift. Well, most people would call it a gift. She, however, detested the spectrum of colours that her eyes perceived. The day she realised what had caused a slight ache in her head as she adjusted to the brightness in front of her, she knew that she had been cursed.
She knew all about The Strings, of course, the sacred bond of fate that the entire ton, and the queen herself, considered a blessing from the heavens, a match to be desired, but she never imagined how lively they actually were. Because, unlike the rest of them, she could see them.
