Though our conversation had somewhat soothed Princess’s turbulent emotions, it had not bestowed upon her the tranquility necessary for peaceful slumber. We managed to drift off, but the brief respite was so ephemeral as to hardly be worth mentioning. Much of the night was instead spent in silent reflection, the weight of unspoken concerns pressing upon our shared mind.

  The soft rustling of sheets stirred me from a shallow rest—though to call it sleep would be an exaggeration. As my eyes fluttered open, I saw Rascal moving quietly toward the door, still clad in her nightgown, likely heading for the lavatory. At the same time, Fermina began to stir as well, her movements slow and groggy, hinting at an awakening not yet fully realized.

  Though neither of us had openly voiced it, Princess and I had silently agreed that Fermina would serve as our confidant. The truth of our predicament, however, would be no easy tale to convey. Fermina, though wise and thoughtful, would require more than words to be convinced. I dared not rush the matter, trusting that Princess would see the wisdom in a measured approach and not misinterpret my caution as hesitation or treachery.

  Rascal soon returned from her brief excursion to find us already in the process of dressing. It was the first time I had taken charge of the morning routine, and I made no effort to disguise my unfamiliarity. The awkwardness with which I fumbled through the garments and wrestled with our long, wavy chestnut mane would hopefully serve to arouse suspicion in Fermina—a suspicion that could, in time, work to our advantage. I also made a conscious effort to avert my gaze whenever either of the sisters was disrobing, not merely out of respect for Princess’s wishes but to preserve my own standing once our secret inevitably came to light.

  “You didn’t sleep well? Something’s off about you today,” Rascal observed.

  “Truth be told, dear Rascal, I had a nightmare,” that was not how Princess referred to her sister. “In this dreadful dream, I found myself trapped within a dark closet. There were screams and flames all around. A soldier appeared—his body unarmored save for a helmet—I saw him through a crack in the door. Upon hearing my cries, he cast aside his weapon and rushed to my aid. My ankle was twisted, and so he carried me in his arms, asking questions to which I could offer no answer. The journey, the military camp, the ransom, the exchange—it was all a terrible dream.”

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  Fermina froze, her hands pausing mid-motion as she was in the midst of putting on her earrings. Her wide-eyed gaze told me all I needed to know. The tale I had just recounted, with all its harrowing details, was one that Fermina had entrusted to me long ago—a memory from the time we had first met, when the sisters were introduced to me as the grotesque creature confined to bed. Back then, they had feared me, but Fermina had eventually come to see me as harmless, even confiding in me the dark memories of her past.

  The elder sister had once recounted how she had been rescued during the Repubian invasion, fleeing alongside soldiers who had abandoned their posts. It had been a perilous escape, and though those deserters were later pardoned, she had carried the trauma of those days in her heart. The sisters had been spared the grisly details of her ordeal, as Fermina had deemed it unnecessary to burden them with such horrors. And yet, here I was, recounting a memory that should have remained buried—a detail that only Fermina and I could have known.

  “Oh…” Rascal exhaled softly, her voice tinged with sadness. “You were dreaming about that.” Her words suggested that the memory was known to all, though perhaps not in its entirety. “I have not thought about it in years.”

  The attack had caught the sisters unaware in the dead of night, and they had been whisked away by a maid through a secret staircase. While the enemy had allowed them to pass, in accordance with the Old Graison code, there had been harassment, and even some captives had been claimed. Fermina had fled in a different direction, with deserters who had fought their way through Repubian scouts. Though she had been taken hostage, my father had paid her ransom, securing her release and earning her gratitude.

  My words had struck a chord, unsettling both Rascal and Fermina in different ways. For Fermina, the resurfacing of buried trauma was a bitter reminder of a past she had sought to protect her sisters from. For Rascal, it was an unsettling glimpse into a memory she had long since tried to forget. Princess should have been equally ignorant, and yet, here we were, wading into dangerous waters.

  “I am alright now, Rascal,” I reassured her with a gentle smile, hoping to dispel her unease. “Could you assist me with my dress? I seem to be struggling with it this morning.”

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