Entwined Setting

The Magical Yet Almost-Modern Kingdom of Eathesbury

The setting of Entwined is familiar in some ways, and quaint in others. It's definitely a made-up fantasy setting (don't go looking for Eathesbury on Google Maps), but it's got elements of our world in it too. We'll break it down for you.

Not So Long Ago or Faraway

Eathesbury is a tiny country in a place kinda like Europe in the mid-1800s. We had a little help with the date there, since in the epigraph it says that the High King D'Eathe reigned in mid-1600s, and Eve, upon hearing that Keeper originated in that time, says: "No one can live for over two hundred years" (8.4). Also, the King has to go away to war thanks to his alliance with Delchastire, and we know that there were a bunch of wars across Europe in the 1800s.

The technology and social systems are also just about right for this time and place: railroads are starting to become prominent in surrounding countries, and Eathesbury has both a monarch and a parliament that is voted in. That stuff is too advanced for the 1700s, and too backwards for the 1900s, so 1800s it is.

The social system and some of the cultural practices are reminiscent of those found in Europe from a couple centuries ago, too. They have fairy tales in their world, though not with titles we recognize—the fairy tales that the King reads to the girls have titles like "Hans and Gretchen," "The Goats of Hemland Shire, " and "The Dainty Princess" (19.117). The girls have to learn Latin from a drowsy teacher—"Tutor Rhamsden snorted, reciting Latin in a doze" (12.73)—and while we're bummed for them that they have such a dull instructor, learning Latin was definitely standard fare for the time.

We know there are some religious similarities between their world and ours, too—for instance Clover tells Jessamine that their mother is "in heaven" (22.148). And when the King asks what their mother did when it was time for the girls to go to bed, Azalea answers, "She used to help the girls with their prayers" (19.110). Heaven and prayers are definitely things hanging out in our world as well.

And apparently they have the Bible in their world too, because when Keeper magically makes himself look like Azalea, so that it seems like there's two of her, Lord Teddie volunteers a solution: "I read about this sort of thing once, sir! The only way to solve it is to kill both of them. It was in the Bible!" (28.53) We're thinking maybe Lord Teddie got his stories a bit mixed up here, but the gist of what he's saying is definitely biblical.

On the innovations front, guns and railroads exist. We know that Mr. Bradford studied at the university—specifically he studied politics, philosophy, and sciences (23.41). Mr. Bradford tells Azalea:

"I went to the Delchastrian Exposition last year […] Such technology, it is beyond me! They've a new engine; the pistons utilize the steam differently so it harbors more energy. It's a wonder. I could only think, if Eathesbury had that! All our imports and exports are through ship and cart." (17.71)

Sounds like they need to get their butts in gear and modernize if they want to keep up with their neighboring countries.

Based on some of the shared cultural stuff with our (real) world, we're guessing that Entwined's setting is a pseudo-alternate Europe. Their world is enough like ours to have some of the same religions and scientific principles, but with magic, too. It seems like magic is on the wane (see the "Epigraph" section for more on this) though, so it'd be interesting to see how Eathesbury develops in its future.

Etiquette in Eathesbury

One way that we can tell that Eathesbury still has a stake in the past and in tradition is the big emphasis on etiquette, politeness and social class. Girls in Eathesbury aren't allowed to attend balls until they're fifteen years old, while Lord Teddie says that in his home country of Delchastire, he was at balls from the age of five and up: "Azalea groaned inwardly, thinking of the headache she would have explaining to the girls that they still wouldn't be allowed at balls until they were fifteen" (10.61). In other words, rules are rules.

There are still a lot of customs and practices regarding courtship and the proper ways for young ladies to interact with gentlemen. A father's permission is required to court his daughter, which is why Azalea is so intrigued once she overhears Fairweller talking to a young lady (who turns out to be her sister Clover) about eloping: "If Fairweller was caught courting a young lady without her father's permission, he would end up in a duel" (21.236). Yeah… duels are kinda archaic.

It's still considered proper for people to carry handkerchiefs, and it's improper for girls to expose their ankles to strangers. The Victorian-ish connotations of these things, plus the rigid practice of mourning, tell us that people really value politeness and appearances. We could go on, but you get the idea: Eathesbury has a lot of quaint traditions.

The Royal Palace

The girls spend a lot of time in the royal palace, both because they're minors and because they're in mourning (so going out, except for on Royal Business, is prohibited). The palace normally has big beautiful windows that let in the sunlight—except they're all covered for mourning for most of the book. "The palace, known for its tall, mullioned windows that dappled light through the halls, would be muffled with drapery, turning day into pitch-black" (4.31). Bummer, right? The girls definitely think so.

Since the royal family doesn't have a lot of money, the palace isn't in great shape. The ballroom, for example, is "old and drafty and the windows leaked when it rained" (2.13)—but at least the gardens are in good shape for the most part: "The smell of lilacs, roses, sweet peas, and honeysuckle mixed with the scent of crisp late summer leaves" (15.14). For more on why this matters, hop on over to the "Symbols" section to read up on flowers in this book.

And the gardens are huge, too: "Vast and sprawling, the gardens were so big it took nearly an hour to walk all the way around them, and young ones could get lost if they wandered off brick paths" (15.18). There are parts of the garden, though, that "hadn't been tended to for years" (17.36), which probably isn't too surprising given the royal family's financial woes.

Before we finish our tour of the royal palace, let's not forget the fact that there are magic passages. Mr. Bradford tells Azalea about them, how "'the D'Eathe mark, when it's on a brick, marks a hidden passage […] You can open it by rubbing silver on it'" (4.87). It's not terribly exciting though, because they're "only used as storage rooms now" (4.89)… except when they aren't.

The passage in the girls' room isn't just a storage room. It looks magical:

Every bough, branch, leaf, and ivied tendril looked as though it had been frosted in silver. It shimmered in the soft, misty light. Azalea inhaled, catching the muted scent of a morning fog, with a tone of pine, and stepped through the doorway into the bright forest. Everything sparkled in bits, catching highlights in glisters as she moved. Even the path beneath her feet. (7.39-40)

This is such an enchanted scene. After months of living inside a pitch-black palace, no wonder the girls respond with awe and delight when they explore this magic passage. And that, of course, is when the trouble begins.