Rache woke to a soft knock on her door.
She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes.
Rain pounded on the window next to the bed, obscuring her view of the world outside.
She looked around, confused.
Where was she?
The knocking came again.
“Your Highness?” A voice called from the other side of the door.
“Are you awake?”
Rache frowned and pushed herself out of the bed.
She stumbled over to the door and opened it.
A maid stood there, holding a tray of food.
“I brought breakfast for you.” The woman said.
“Oh. Thank you.” Rache took the tray and set it on the table beside the bed.
The maid bowed and left, closing the door behind her.
Rache sat down and looked at the food on the tray.
There were eggs, toast, bacon, and fruit.
She picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite.
It was delicious.
The flavor was rich and savory, and the meat was crispy without being dry.
She ate slowly, savoring each bite.
When she finished, she laid back in her bed and stared at the rain outside the window.
The sky was gray and overcast.
She wondered how long it would be before the sun came out again.
She closed her eyes and tried to relax.
Her mind raced, but eventually she fell asleep.
She woke to another soft knock on the door.
This time, however, there was no tray of food waiting for her.
Instead, she heard a voice calling from the other side of the door.
“Your Highness?”
“Yes?” She replied, sitting up.
“I’ve brought you some clothes.”
She got out of bed and walked over to the door.
The maid was standing there with a bundle of clothing in her arms.
“Thank you.” Rache said, taking the clothes.
They were simple, but comfortable.
A dress, underclothes, and a robe.
She put them on and looked at herself in the mirror.
Her reflection stared back at her.
The clothes were simple, but comfortable.
They were plain and white, made of a soft fabric that felt good against her skin.
She brushed her fingers along the neckline.
It was low cut, exposing a fair amount of her chest.
It wasn’t indecent.
It just seemed.
Strangely…
Flattering on her.
The white was pretty on her pale skin, and the dress was well-tailored enough that it flattered her shape without making her look like she was wearing something too small.
There was nothing particularly ornate about it, but it suited her.
The dress fell down to her feet, but the sleeves were short.
Her hair had been left down, hanging loose around her shoulders.
She ran her fingers through her hair and smoothed it back.
Her gaze turned back toward the door.
There had been no sign of Donncahd since he’d briefly appeared when she fell out of bed trying to take off her corset.
Given the fact that he’d been mostly undressed and appeared so quickly…
It made sense to assume he was in a room right nearby.
And with that in mind, his lack of appearance since then was probably purposeful.
With a sigh, Rache moved back toward the window, and sat down in a chair nearby.
The rain had stopped during the wedding, but it was as present as it ever was in Sidera – a constant drizzle falling down from the sky.
The clouds were dark and heavy overhead, and the air smelled of wet earth and decaying leaves.
It wasn’t the sort of rain that made one feel happy and cheerful, or even hopeful.
Instead it seemed to be the kind that made one think about the end of the world, about death and decay and despair.
The kind that made one wonder why anyone bothered living at all.
She stared at the rain falling down from the sky.
It was cold outside, and she could feel the chill seeping into her bones.
She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.
She wished she had something warm to drink.
The door suddenly opened, and that maid was at the door once again.
She curtsied.
“Your Highness. If it pleases you, I’ve brought you some hot chocolate.”
…This maid.
Was prescient.
Or, more likely, she was a native of Sidera and knew what new visitors needed.
Rache nodded, standing up.
The maid set the cup on the table beside the bed and then turned to leave.
“Your Highness,” She said.
“If you wish, I could draw you a bath.”
Rache glanced toward her.
“I’m sorry, what’s your name?”
The maid paused, blinking at her.
“…It’s Ela. I’m your personal handmaid, Your Highness.”
“Oh. Thank you, Ela.” She hesitated.
“I think…a warm bath would be nice.”
“Of course.” The woman curtsied again.
“I’ll bring you a towel.”
Ela left the room, and Rache went to the bed, sitting down and picking up the cup of hot chocolate.
She took a sip.
It tasted sweet and rich.
She closed her eyes and sighed.
This was exactly what she needed.
Something warm and comforting.
Something to make her feel less alone.
She opened her eyes again and looked around the room.
It was small, but comfortable.
There was a fireplace on one side of the room, and a large window overlooking the garden below on the other.
It was still not as homey and comfortable as Aurania, but it was definitely less sparse than the room she’d been staying in since arriving in Sidera.
She felt better after the drink.
There were plenty of books to pass her time with, a small fire, a warm bed…
…Maybe there were maps?
If she wasn’t going to be interrupted or accosted by Donncahd while she was in this palace ‘prison’ with him, she could spend time preparing for her escape instead.
That was the better choice than simply sitting around, sulking and feeling sorry for herself.
The smarter choice.
Ela returned with a towel, and Rache stood up, taking it.
“Thank you.”
She led Rache out of the room and into a hallway, then down a flight of stairs.
The hallway opened into a large bathroom.
It was decorated in a similar style to the bedroom she’d been given.
A marble bathtub stood in the center of the room.
Ela turned on the water and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Rache walked over to the tub and tested the temperature of the water with her hand.
Hot…
Sidera was a cold and unforgiving nation, but its baths were hot.
Hot enough her skin might be left a little red by the end. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
But that was fine with her.
She stripped down, leaving her clothes on a nearby chair.
When the tub was full, she got into it.
The water felt good against her skin.
She leaned back and let the heat sink into her body.
She closed her eyes and relaxed.
This was exactly what she needed.
Something warm and comforting.
She let out a long breath and opened her eyes.
She stared at her toes as they wiggled in the hot water, they were longer and thinner than the ones she’d had before.
In her prior life…she’d never really thought about what she’d want her toes to look like.
Who would?
Certainly not her.
And yet.
These ones.
Were hers.
And they looked nothing like the ones she remembered from just a short time before – before waking up in this fragile body.
Donncahd had called her…
Princess of Porcelain, wasn’t it?
It was just a careless insult of course, but…
It was also accurate.
She was like a beautiful, fragile doll, who would shatter if dropped, or if forced to move too much.
Her lips pulled down into a frown, and her fingers ran up and down her arms.
She had to get away from Sidera, from Donncahd.
The man would kill her.
Not now.
She had to constantly remind herself of that.
It wouldn’t be right then, she wasn’t in present danger.
But he would, eventually, kill her.
The only thing she could do was escape first.
And, logically, she needed to escape before he became King Donncahd.
She didn’t know when after his ascension he killed Airie, so of course that was reason enough, but…
She stared down at her reflection, rippling in the water.
The story was marching onward.
Marching toward inevitability.
If she tried to escape when he became King, that would very likely…simply be the catalyst for her death by his hands.
Plot would dictate it, and she would die.
Therefore, she had to be gone before then.
The hourglass on the table of her life…
Was visible.
It was the presence of Donncahd’s father.
but she didn’t know how much sand was left in him.
The book neglected to mention much about ages and timelines, which made it very difficult to make any guesses.
She could only pray that the king remained in good health for some years yet, giving her the chance to escape before she was killed.
But…
But she had no idea if that would be the case, or if she would run out of time.
Her eyes narrowed, and her hands gripped her own arms harder.
She leaned back in the water and stared at the ceiling.
Every time she started to panic, to feel sorry for herself…
She needed to remind herself of that.
She didn’t have time for those kinds of things.
She didn’t know how much time she had…
But she knew she definitely didn’t have enough for that.
She closed her eyes and sighed, relaxing in the water, letting its heat soak into her bones and fight off the chill of the drafty castle.
….Before she quite realized it was happening, she drifted to sleep in it.