PAGE 1 - The Morning Winding

**PAGE 1**

**PANEL 1** — Wide establishing shot. The Royal Aviarium of Gevere: a vaulted chamber in the palace's highest tower, all gilt and glass. Morning light floods through arched windows. Rows of clockwork birds on velvet perches — one for each member of the royal family. They tick softly. Some are golden. Some are silver. One is copper, dented and old: the King's.

**CAPTION:** Every morning at six, the birds are wound. This is the Royal Horologist's most sacred duty.

**PANEL 2** — WREN CUTLER (17, ink-stained fingers, too-large apprentice coat) works her way down the row with a winding key. Careful. Methodical. She has done this four hundred times.

**WREN (thought):** Four hundred and twelve.

**PANEL 3** — Close on a silver bird, mid-winding. It's beautiful. Intricate feathers, each one engraved with a different scene. Wren's expression is professional and fond.

**PANEL 4** — She reaches the end of the row. One perch holds a bird she doesn't recognise. It's similar to Princess Isadora's bird — same silver, same size — but the engraving is wrong. Simpler. Less detailed. The feathers don't quite match.

**WREN:** ...

**PANEL 5** — Wren pulls out her catalogue. Finds Isadora's entry. Reference engraving: the princess at age three, laughing on a beach.

**PANEL 6** — Close on the bird on the perch. The beach scene is missing. The child in the engraving is not laughing. She is looking away.

**WREN (thought):** That's not her.