In all the years she had been in this tower, today had been the most peaceful waking she had ever experienced thus far. The wind was gently brushing past the cracks in the window, causing the little glass baubles that hung across it to clink. She wasn't sure if the noise had woken her, or that the wind seemed warmer today than it had been lately.
'Another summer is coming,' she thought sleepily as she rolled over, wrapping the thinning blanket tightly over her bare body. It had been barely enough to keep her from freezing in the harsh winter, only layering her clothes and any scrap of cloth Alman had snuck up to her saved her from freezing to death. She blessed the old woman again, thanking her for the many times she was able to save her from other near death experiences. Though, she supposed admittedly, Alman had to keep her alive seeing as she was the kingdom's princess. Or at least, that was what she was according to Alman.
The old woman tended to her since she was young, that much she knew and remembered. Alman was many things to the princess; a teacher, a companion, and a mother. She visited once every day, bringing enough food and entertainment to keep her occupied while she waited.
What she waited for she couldn't remember too well anymore, but there had been something that kept her from despair. As she stretched in her cramped cot, her mind wandered to the first days that she had known this existence, sighing as the vague words "wait until your father calls for you" replayed in her mind again, a message that teased her endlessly.
….
She remembered flowers, and laughing with a woman who had light blue hair and amber eyes, the same as hers had been. A man and a boy had joined them, laughing at some joke as well. She remembered being swept up in the man's arms, giggling wildly as he had called her his second jewel and hugged her tightly. A tight pang of nostalgic grief tugged at her heart, it had surely been better times for her, and for them. The man was no doubt her father, and the woman her mother. But she barely remembered the boy; the only image she could recall of him was his waving blue hair. She felt guilt sweep gently over her as she scrunched her eyebrows, knowing that she should know him, yet she couldn't remember his name. Maybe if Alman was feeling kind today she'd tell her more about him, rather than avoiding the questions altogether.
She could remember the day it all changed, however. It was clearer than anything else that existed, and still almost as painful to bear. It had been close to nighttime when she had been called to the throne room, the chamber maid nearly dragging her there by her arm in alarm, the orange of the sunset turning the castle to an ominous red color. It was too quiet except for the eerie cries that punctuated the air on occasion, cut off quickly by a muffling sound. It was the first time the princess had felt the cold fingers of dread wrap its fingers around her heart, the rapid beat causing cold sweat to bead on her neck as she was rushed along.
The throne room was nearly dark by the time they arrived, and she gulped uneasily as she scanned the usually recognizable hall, searching for familiar figures. She gripped the sleeve of the maid now as her search ended in front of her, finding her father bending over a still form. He was weeping, she realized, squinting into the dark room. He shook off a comforting hand from his advisor, wailing as he gathered it up, cradling it gingerly. With a shock, she realized that it was her mother that he was grieving for, and tears pooled as she cried out, calling for her father to see her.
She rushed to him, grasping at his arm and pulling to see her, only catching a glimpse of the pale face before she was knocked back roughly. Stunned by the sudden violence, she could only stare at him as he curled over her mother. Hands grasped her now, pulling her from the throne room as she began to cry in earnest, confused and hurt. In a state of desperation, she pulled free from the maid who was leading her to her room to run back to the throne room. She didn't make it far as she was suddenly stopped by the Lord of the Guards, Acnologia, who lifted her up and slung her over his shoulder, carrying her up the stairs while the maid protested.
When they reached the little princess's room, he unceremoniously dumped her onto the bed. She rushed to get off the bed and back to where her parents were. She was terribly frightened that her mother had lain so still, death was still a foreign concept to the little girl.
Yanked back suddenly by the larger man, she was pinned to the bed as he pressed down on her back, squeezing the air out her lungs. She gasped, choking as she was smothered into the blankets.
"You will be silent, girl, or you will be punished greatly," he said coldly, releasing her when the maid entered the room. Shocked into silence, she gripped the blanket as he stormed out the room, leaving the maid to fret over her.
Later that night, after she had cried herself into a restless sleep, she was roughly woken by her maid and dressed quickly. The older girl seemed frantic as she wrapped a cloak around the princess's small shoulders, shushing her when she tried to speak.
The door slammed open then, causing both girls to jump as Lord Acnologia strode into the room, stopping shortly in front of the princess. She trembled, unable to look at the towering man as she gripped her hands together, sniffling slightly. She didn't know the giant man as well as her father did, but every time she had peeked at him from behind her mother's skirt she shivered in fear. There was a coldness in the way that he glared that paralyzed her to the spot, and now nothing would protect her from his stare.
"You will follow me," he commanded, ignoring the protests of the maid. Too frightened to do anything other than nod frantically, she stumbled to follow him as he turned on his heel and vacated the room, not slowing to see if she could keep up. Outside her room, a small formation of soldiers waited to escort her as Lord Acnologia led the way, ensuring that she wouldn't become lost.
They traveled through the dark, quiet halls of the castle, and she bit her lip to keep the sobs from breaking the silence. She gripped the maid's hand tightly, keeping her eyes on the floor in front of her. The flickering flames of the torches that the soldiers carried casted shadows around them, and she could feel the air thicken around them, making it difficult for her to breath evenly. She hoped that they were leading her back to her father, anxiously praying that she would soon be comforted.
A loud, wooden screech pierced the air, startling her as she jumped back. She yelped when a rough hand pushed her forward as Lord Acnologia turned to her, his eyes nearly glowing in the flickering firelight. She couldn't hold back the tears as she was shoved forcibly towards the man. He stepped back revealing the door that had made the soul shattering noise. The pitch blackness of the space beyond beckoned her, and she whimpered, unable to stop them from pushing her closer.
"Please," she begged, her voice tiny and shaky from fear. "I want to see my father, please don't make me go there." She tried to dig her heels in, leaning back against the soldiers. There was a horrible stench that wafted from the doorway, and she hiccupped loudly, whirling away to escape. The hands that had pushed her forward now gripped at her shoulders as Lord Acnologia reached for her, growling lowly.
She screamed as he grabbed her hair, yanking her hard towards the door. He easily dragged her through the darkness, nearly lifting her up off of her small feet as he began to climb steps that had been hidden. Hysterical with pain, grief and fear, she tripped up the stairs, held upright only by her hair. She could hear her cries bounce off walls that were becoming too close for comfort, blocking out any other sound.
They paused after what seemed like a lifetime, and she sobbed, grasping at the hand that still held her long hair captive. It only tightened momentarily, pulling at her roots so painfully that she couldn't hold back a yelp of pain. Another wooden creak sounded just above them, and she squirmed as he pulled her up again, stopping after only a few steps. He finally released her, dropping her onto the wooden floor at his feet. Gasping and whimpering, she scuttled away from him, blindly reaching out. She bit back a startled yelp of pain as her hand slapped against something cold and hard. She curled against it, fearful that Lord Acnologia would pull at her again, hiding her face from him.
"You are to wait here till you have been summoned by the king," his cold yet gravelly voice gritted out, sounding farther away than she had thought. She didn't risk looking at him, keeping her head low and buried in her arms. She sat there, huddled into herself as she listened to the heavy footsteps retreat, followed by the loud slamming of the door. Silence fell around her, punctuated only by her hiccups.
After a few minutes of listening for him to return, she braved a peek over her arms and into the darkness, squinting till her eyes adjusted. There were small spots of moonlight on the floor not far away, and she crawled over, lying flat on her back so the light hit her face. 'Stay here till father calls for me?' she thought, sadness settling over her young heart as she remembered him clutching her mother. Her breath hitched, and she rolled over, giving in to the body wracking wailing that she had resisted since she had been placed in her room.
It was cold in the room, and soon her cries shuddered to low whimpers. She had never felt so cold before, and longed for her mother's comforting arms and warm voice.
"Mama… papa," she breathed, sniffling as sleep began to overtake the exhausted girl. The moonlight had slipped farther away, leaving her completely engulfed in pitch black.
….
Her eyes snapped open to the trap door opening this time, and she jumped out of the bed, quickly pulling the old and dirty maid's dress over her shoulders. Her matted hair pulled a bit as she did so, and she hissed through her teeth as she gripped the mass, yanking it free. She was no longer the pretty and clean girl from her memories, but a young woman who was a prisoner in her own tower, dirty from the grit that blew up with the wind as it snaked its way through the cracks. The dress she was given barely went past her thighs, and was tighter on top than had been when she first received it. She breathed a sigh of relief when Alman's head popped through the trapdoor, carrying her only meal and a thick book. Though Alman had been a blessing as her only maid, much of what she had been allowed was controlled by Lord Acnologia, now Lord General of the king's armies.
What he couldn't control was Alman's love for storytelling, and the princess drank her stories up as if they were life giving, sitting next to her on the bed as she nibbled the small meals she was allowed to eat. The stories became her world as she would pace the small space she lived in, climbing the rafters from her bed as she recounted the stories to herself, memorizing them over and over again. One day, she thought, she would live like the people in the stories, free and happy.
Then one day, Alman began to bring up the great books from the library, reading them out loud to the princess as she sat in awe next her, gently pulling the books away to reverently stroke them and leafing through the pages. The words were familiar, and she smiled gently as she could almost hear a gentle voice reading the same words.
"I know these words," she whispered, holding the book to her chest. Alman smiled at her, then patting the bed next her. As the princess sat next to her, Alman leaned her head next to hers, then grinned toothily.
"There are many more books like that, princess," she said, chuckling at the princess's look of amazement. "But the rarest of them all are here, in the castle. This is one of them, and very few others can read it." She grinned wickedly now, almost mischievously as she sniggered quietly. "it's called the Ice language, and your mother knew it very well," she continued. The princess glanced at the old woman, wondering if it were true, and sighed fondly as she traced the stamped grooves in the leather.
"May I keep the book?" she asked, hope beginning to sparkle in her eyes as she grasped it to her chest. Alman thought for a moment, gazing at the young woman with a indiscernible look in her eyes. The princess's smile dropped slightly, and she sat back, sighing in disappointment.
"I will let you have the book, but on one condition," Alman said suddenly, her voice serious and stern. Surprised, the princess whirled to face her, the book still clutched to her chest. A warm feeling she hadn't felt in years was blooming in her chest, traveling up her shoulders and neck till it blossomed in her head, radiating in her cheeks. If Alman could see the blush under all the dirt and grit staining her skin, she didn't show it.
"One condition?" she asked, the smile returning to her lips as the old woman nodded slowly, still serious but a smile of her own gracing her lips. She grasped the princess's shoulder gently, her voice lowering in hushed secrecy.
"You cannot let Lord Acnologia see it, or let him know you've seen it," she said, her eyes turning hard. The princess gulped, nodding slowly as she began to understand the danger of what Alman was getting into. She gripped the book tighter, leaning into the older woman in gratitude.
"I'll treasure this as long as I can, Alman," she said, beginning to imagine the hiding places for such a book. Her room was tiny, and didn't offer much for hiding places other than under the cot, and possibly in the rafters where she often climbed. Lord Acnologia didn't come up the tower as much as he used to, but the thought of him finding her new treasure was enough to cause shivers cascading up her spine. She straightened her shoulders, grinning brightly in what seemed like ages, throwing an arm around her and hugging her tightly.
After that Alman began to bring more books to her, despite the danger that the old woman spoke of. The princess wasn't sure why it was so dangerous, especially when it concerned the books written in the ice language. It was a very familiar and comforting language to read, and when she spoke the language it flowed off her tongue as music, and some days she twirled as she read the stories, singing gently. If Alman's stories were enchanting enough to daydream about, then the books she brought up were bewitching, and the princess read them over and over as long as she could, some days beginning when the first light of dawn gleamed through the window till the last vestiges of twilight when it grew too dark to continue.
…
One morning, she was surprised to see that Alman wasn't alone when she opened the trapdoor. Wary, the princess pressed herself up against the far wall, holding her breath as a young woman with wavy chocolate hair followed in as she carried the breakfast tray. She stopped short when she saw the princess, surprise flashing across her face before she recovered, flashing a quick grin at her. The princess snapped her head to the old woman now, curious as to why Alman brought the woman up.
Alman had an even larger book in her arms, and struggled to stay upright as she hobbled over to the bed, placing it heavily on the thin blanket and slab of cushion that served as a mattress. Sighing, she twisted so that she sat down, breathing hard as she motioned for the other woman to come closer.
"This is Cana, princess," she began, taking the tray from Cana's hands. Cana smiled and inclined her head, then glanced at the old woman as if unsure how to proceed. Alman coughed slightly, and the princess felt a stab of fear as she realized that the she looked paler than usual. She knelt in front of her, grasping her bony fingers gently, her eyes only on Alman's face.
"Alman?" she asked, concern lacing her voice as she reached up to brush her fingers across her attendant's forehead. She remembered that it was something that Alman had done to her when she felt ill, the gesture offering a small comfort as she had lain oh the cot miserably. Now, as the older woman gripped her hand and breathed heavily, the princess moved quickly, pulling the book off of the bed and scattering the pages across the floor. She gently pushed Alman down, laying her down on the cot. When the old woman didn't protest, but merely sighed, the princess wrung her hands frantically and turned to Cana, who had nearly been forgotten.
"What should I do for her?" she asked, tears in her eyes as she looked around the tiny room. "I don't have anything that could help her!"
Cana blinked as the princess began to pace around the room, looking up in the rafters and under the cot, the book all but forgotten. To her surprise she saw stacks of other books piled precariously up on the old wooden beams, and there was not an empty spot under the cot as she began to pull out book after book and flipped through them urgently, her face determined to find an answer. 'So this is the "forgotten" princess I've heard about,' she thought, taking the opportunity to glance around the princess's room.
It wasn't what she had expected when she first came up here to aid the old woman, nor was the girl whom Alman had called "princess". Aside from the surprising amount of books that the princess had, she was more surprised by the young princess who crouched by the old woman's head, gently pressing her hand against her forehead and murmuring gently as she scoured the pages for an answer. She looked more like a gutter rat from the poorest of towns than she did royalty, but there was no mistaking the fear in her eyes.
Cana sighed silently, then stepped closer to them, setting the tray down next to the princess. Startled, she looked up from her book as Cana smiled gently at her, picking up the cup of water and handing it to her.
"Princess, I'm helping Alman from this day on, so please don't worry," she said, poking the girl's forehead, earning a feeble slap on the hand from Alman, who merely grumbled as she tried to push herself up. Startled at first, the princess slowly nodded as she pressed Alman back down to the cot, rubbing at the spot that had been poked. Cana seemed to be trustworthy, but she supposed only time would tell.