Summary
Wind-bitten Olenburg, a diorama of gabled roofs and frozen canals, rears its orphan Gretchen beneath the iron rule of Frau Van Lom, a crone whose heart seems carved from the same granite as the dikes. The child’s only radiance arrives in the shape of Carl, another foundling who carries the salt of the sea in his veins though he sleeps beneath a pauper’s thatch. Years distill their friendship into a hush of shared breaths on the polder—moments so slender they could slip through the eye of a needle. When a bloated burgess offers to swallow Frau Van Lom’s debts in exchange for Gretchen’s hand, the girl’s refusal detonates a chain of reprisals: a missing locket discovered in her apron, a constable’s curt nod, iron bars clanging shut. Carl, banished to the monarch’s distant palace, becomes a pawn in a frescoed world of powdered wigs and whispered coups, while Gretchen’s dungeon cell fills with the rot of straw and the echo of her own pulse. What follows is a diptych of escapes—one across moonlit rooftops, the other through the labyrinth of a court that feeds on innocence—until the fates of the two outcasts converge like bruised comets over the North Sea.
Synopsis
Gretchen, an abandoned child, is raised by Frau Van Lom, the nastiest woman in the little Dutch village of Olenburg. As she grows up, Gretcen's few moments of happiness are those she spends with Carl, who is also an abandoned child, but who is raised by a poor family. When Gretchen refuses to marry a wealthy old man in exchange for his paying off Frau von Lom's mortgage, she is framed for theft and jailed. On top of that, Carl is taken away from the village and sent to the palace of the king. Complications ensue.
