I had scheduled this to post on Sunday but it didn't. So here's the tardy Sample Monday. (Unfortunately, it doesn't have the same ring.)
Saera could hear the raucous in the faraway streets despite sitting in the Queen’s spare room. The sounds were uncommon to the dusk light that fell threw her window; there were no voices calling good evening or be careful with that, boy. They were shouts, screams. She leapt from her bed and struggled with the door latch, and when she finally got it open she marched with bare feet towards the Queen’s study. From there, from the balcony, she would be able to see what was happening. A silly argument in the street? A boy from the Underground thieving an apple? No, the screams she had heard were of fear, shrill and desperate.