It is 1789 and the French Reign of Terror is at the peak of its indifferent cruelty. A young and unworldly aristocrat is seized and she has only one brief dawn in THE SHADOW OF THE MAIDEN to wrestle with her conscience and discover why she must die. In fast-paced present tense, Kathryn Gabrielle rushes us through in little more than 1000 words from a sudden raid by revolutionary police to swift death by guillotine and the dawning of understanding in one victim's heart.

It is 1789. The Reign of Terror.

In France, a radical political group calls for exile or death for nobility - preferably death. Some victims stride haughtily to their fate and make brave speeches, hoping not to save their heads, but their family pride. Thousands loudly cry their innocence in the very shadow of the guillotine's blade. Some remain silent as they kneel... perhaps they are not so sure ...

A knock on her door. But the police don't wait for a reply. They burst in and drag her away.

In the Conciergerie courtyard, she catches a glimpse of the guillotine's shadow cast across the cobbles.

Inside the jail, the air is rancid. Rats are everywhere. Other prisoners look upon her with empty eyes, numb to the brutal fate that awaits them all.

She is roughly stripped of her silk dress and jewels. She had known the police might come, but she had been too proud to take them off and hide them as others had done.

A rough shirt replaces her finery. She shivers, barefoot on the slick stone floor.

"After me!"

She follows the soldier to a large room where many like herself are pleading their cases before the French Revolutionary Tribunal. They seek a united France, they say. The day of the rich has past.

She is now before the judge.

"It says here that you were born an aristocrat and you support the monarchy. Is that true ?"

"Yes. I am an aristocrat, but why am I here? I have done nothing to harm another human being. I don't understand. What is my crime?"

"Your crime is supporting the monarchy. Your punishment is death by the guillotine. Take her away."

"Listen to me! Can I help it if I was born into wealth? Does that corrupt me and make me unfit? I plead for my very life, sir!"

"If you support the monarchy, you are as good as dead. Do you or do you not favor our King?"

"I do."

"Then you are sentenced to die."

"No!"

"Take her away!"

She is brought to a room where my beautiful blonde curls are cut away to save the guillotine's precious edge. She is bundled into a dark and dismal prison cell to await my death.

She wishes she could go back and change her answers. She know she was wrong to reply so proudly. It would cost her head. What a fool she is!

Terror suddenly grips her and she struggles to get away from the guards. They grasp her painfully and drag her down the dank halls.

The prison door clangs shut and she is left only with the window to comfort me. She does not look down at the guillotine in the courtyard. She looks up toward the moon, hoping against hope that this is some sort of mistake and she will be set free.

She hammers a dirty drinking cup against the cell door. A guard approaches, unlocks the door and tries to grab the cup away. A shiny knife falls to the floor from his sleeve and in a moment, she snatches it and plunge its point into the guard's throat. She holds up her hands and gazes at the blood. Then she flees...

Until ... the chimes of Notre Dame wake her. The dream is gone... and there is no escape from the waking nightmare of reality.

The day of death dawns.

She surrenders hope.

Tears overcome her at last, and her lips tremble.

"What have I done to deserve such a death?" she asks the grey light.

And a soft voice whispers in her mind: "Did you really believe your money would save you? Money is a mortal toy. There are so many good people who didn't have half the happiness you have had in your life. They are fighting for the simplest things you have always taken for granted and they had always been denied."

"It is my station in life to be rich. I have nothing against the poor, but they must accept their place in life."

"Would you accept such a gloomy existence?"

"No."

"Then why would you expect them to?"

"That's the way it has always been. The rich stay with the rich and the poor must suffer. It never affected me, so I didn't think about it. Now, now I have no choice but to think about it."

"You have little time to think. But I'll tell you the reason now. The reason is revolution. Change."

"Change at my expense? Why must I die to save a poor boy?"

"You still don't understand! What makes you think your life is more valuable than a poor boy's?"

"I was given a better chance to become more successful than he."

"Because he is denied opportunity - because he is poor? Don't you see? The poor boy could be something but you got in the way. Your class. Your narrow thinking. If you come upon a poor boy on the street, what do you do? Do you greet him?"

"Certainly not. He's dirty!"

"He is only dirty because no one reached out to help."

"Why should I help? He might kill me!"

"You have been taught that? He might teach you something about kindness. What you have not been taught is that if you are lost and knock on a poor boy's door, he will open it and offer his last crust of bread so that you might live - it is the way of the poor."

"Why?"

"Because those with nothing at all have nothing to lose. They share their great misery but also their small bounty."

She shakes her head.

"Are you beginning to see?"

"Yes. But why must I die?"

"I can't answer that question, but before you give yourself to God, let the hate out of your heart and embrace the poor boy just once."

"I will. Who are you?"

"You already know. Do not despair, my daughter, you shall be with me soon."

"I am not afraid."

She looks at the scaffold and cries. But she weeps, not for her own death, but for a life of blindness.