Now that the past has been dealt with, we can go back to the past present time. After the murder, Prospero had moved into a stone tower in the middle of the forest, and was visited by Miranda every day. He had not been seen in the town since the night of the murder, and had a faithful servant named Juno with whom he had had Miranda. Juno had died in childbirth.
Before we go back to Miranda completely, there is one more thing I must tell you: Prospero had a ring, a ruby inlaid in a silver round, that was his most prized possession. He wore it always, even the night of Sycorax's murder, and the many people that had seen Prospero in the chamber that night had seen him with the very same ring. The day our past begins was the day after Miranda's 18th birthday.
"Miranda." Prospero called. Miranda, who had been outside the tower feeding some doves, heard her father's voice and ran up the long stone stairs to his chamber, where he sat at a chair by the window. "As you know, it is you 18th birthday. I must give you this." With these words, he plucked the ring off his finger and handed it to a gaping Miranda. "But father, this is you most prized possession...." "Yes, yes, I know." Prospero said with a wave of his hand. "But I want you to have it." "Oh, thank you, father!" Miranda cried, throwing her arms around him. He laughed and hugged her back. "Now go off to the market and buy some cheese and bread for your birthday feast." Miranda nodded excitedly and rushed out of the tower, down the path towards the village.
She slipped on the ring the moment she was out of sight of the tower.
Back in the village, she stopped by the old baker's shop where he lived with his wife. Unknown to Miranda, the old baker's wife was the young maid who had cried "MURDER!" in Sycorax's chamber all those years ago. She remembered the bloody scene like it was yesterday. This particular day, the baker had gone to a neighboring nation to buy yeast, leaving his wife to run the shop.
"Good morning, Mrs. Westin." Miranda said as she entered the shop. "Good morning, my child." The baker's wife said with a smile. "What will it be today? A loaf of bread? A pastry? Maybe even a birthday cake?" "Oh, I just want a loaf today." Miranda said, pointing to the nearest loaf with the finger with Prospero's ring on it.
The baker's wife's face fell the moment she saw the ring. "Are you okay, Mrs. Westin?" Miranda asked in a concerned tone. The baker's wife's face was contorted with horror at the sight of the ring. "What... but... Sycorax..." she stammered, pointing at the ring. Miranda had taken a step back in fright, the sunlight gleaming accusingly off the ring. "PROSPERO IS STILL ALIVE! AND MIRANDA IS HIS DAUGHTER!" the old woman screamed. She jumped off her chair and raced out of the shop, screaming these words as she ran up the street towards the town square.
Miranda, not knowing of the crime, was concerned but went on with her business. She was just stepping out of the cobbler's when she heard yelling. She turned her head and saw a huge crowd of people coming towards her, holding torches, pitchforks, and makeshift weapons of many kinds. It was made of the many people who had seen Prospero in the chamber that fateful night, their sons and daughters, and their son's and daughter's sons and daughters. "KILL THE UPSPRER! KILL HIS DAUGHER!" they were yelling.
Miranda took one look at the crowd and ran for her life with the crowd rushing after her. The sky overhead darkened and rain started to pour down.