For the first time, Anna feels a small kindling of dislike for her mistress. If she were not so weak-willed… But then she thinks about Crispijn, her true friend. He’s written twice since leaving for Amsterdam and his letters are full of news about recent construction work around the city and the polder which holds back the powerful waters of the IJ. If he suddenly disappeared without explanation, she would also grieve his absence and she would want to know what became of him.

Catharina makes a sudden, gasping sound and bends down. In her efforts to extract the dress, Anna sees that she has disturbed the handkerchief in which she kept Griet’s long red hairs. Catharina cradles them as if they are more precious than gold. Pocketing them, she helps Anna to put on her mother’s gown.

‘It does look well on you,’ Catharina says, as she ties the last ribbon. ‘No wonder my brother stared when he saw you. You look entirely different. Even the way you hold yourself. Thank you for agreeing.’

Her grateful compliment makes Anna blush.

They return to the library together. Maarten wants Anna to kneel at the couple’s feet, her arms prostrate as if she is curtseying or bowing, a supplicant praying at a shrine of marital bliss. Thankfully, Catharina convinces him otherwise. She positions Anna behind the couple, stooping to gather the folds of Blanche’s silver wedding gown. ‘She looks more like a lady’s attendant,’ Catharina says. It confers a certain power on the couple, to know they can afford the services of a companion. Maarten grunts his approval.

After an hour in the same position, Anna’s arms and back begin to ache. Catharina informs Maarten that the sitting is over and that the couple should return the day after tomorrow to continue. Catharina’s face is grey with exhaustion and stress. Maarten says nothing about Griet as they part at the doorway and Anna feels Catharina’s mounting despair at his lack of transparency. Anna returns to her bedchamber to take off her mother’s dress. Folding up the silk, she replaces it in the drawer and her gaze catches on the sketch of Griet. She is beautiful, her neck long and elegant, her hair fiery perfection. Anna examines her own plain features in the looking glass, wondering whether Catharina will draw her the same way, with fondness, or whether the image of her on the Horsts’ portrait will somehow capture the look of someone hunted, always glancing behind at the shadow of fate darkening her heels.

The next time the Horsts visit Sterrenwijck, Blanche confronts Anna again, choosing to speak to her while they are both trapped in the small dressing room where there is no possible chance of escape.