Adelaide could feel the pain in her temples before she opened her eyes. The ache spread from the back of her skull to her ears and over her eyebrows. She clenched her jaw and winced. Her fingers grasped onto a soft fabric and she paused. Wiggling her fingers, she blindly inspected the material. It felt like the bed sheets she had back home. Was she home? Was she in her bed? No—she ran away—it wasn't possible. Or maybe it was all just a dream? If it was, then she would smell—Adelaide inhaled deeply. There was no familiar scent of vanilla that normally filled her room. Instead, her nostrils warmed with the smell of a fire. The smokiness warmed her from her toes to the tip of her nose.
She tensed. If she wasn't in her room, then where was she? Her eyes flew open. She was lying on her back, wooden rafters filling her vision. Slowly, she turned her head to the side. Her neck throbbed with the movement. A roaring fire danced in the fireplace that sat at the foot of the bed. Its flames licked at the bottom of a large black cauldron. Lazily stirring the mystery liquid was the stranger from before.
She had removed her black cloak. The black tunic covering her torso was clean and looked like it belonged to someone of noble blood. The sleek fabric hugged her shoulders, making her back look slender and muscular. Her dark hair blended in with her clothes. The glow of the fire made her wavy, charcoal, hair resemble a crimson waterfall. Her face was expressionless as she watched the boiling pot.
Adelaide scanned the room. She was inside a small, one-roomed, cabin. The door sat on the wall opposite of the bed. There were two windows with thick curtains that flanked the entrance. A pathetic excuse for a kitchen made up half of the cabin. A small table with one chair sat in the middle of the room. She tilted her head, looking at the wall to her right. A dusty armoire was pressed against the wall. Clothes spilled from its drawers. Etched onto the side panel were three vertical lines.
The bed was tucked into the corner. Looking at the wall to her left, Adelaide could see a display of various weapons. They ranged from broad swords to daggers and bow and arrows. Adelaide swallowed. Her throat was uncomfortably dry.
"I use them to hunt."
Adelaide jumped and turned her head—too quickly judging by the shot of pain in her neck. She bit the inside of her cheek to try and suppress the pain. The stranger remained in the chair by the fire. Her eyes were watching the princess. When Adelaide didn't respond, the girl pointed to the wall of weapons.
"I use them to hunt." She repeated. "In case you were afraid. I've never used one on another person."
Adelaide nodded calmly but her mind was screaming. Every part of her body was telling her to get away from this stranger. Then again—every part of her body was also telling her to take advantage of the warm bed and sleep for days. She slowly propped herself up on her elbows. When her head throbbed in protest, she pressed her eyes shut and hissed through her teeth.
"You fainted." The stranger said nonchalantly. "You landed on a cluster of roots and hit your head quite hard."
Another wave of pain crashed over the princess. She groaned. "Do you have any tonics?"
"No," the stranger answered quickly.
The princess groaned again and settled back into the mattress. She draped her arm over her eyes. If she were at the castle, she would only have to ask her lady-in-waiting for a tonic and it would appear in a matter of moments. There were healers in every wing of the castle thanks to her father's frequent drunken slips and falls.
"I don't have any tonics, but I do have stew."
Adelaide lifted her arm and looked at the girl. "Stew?" she said slowly. "How is stew going to help me?"
The stranger shrugged. "Well, for one, it's delicious."
Adelaide studied the girl's expression. She couldn't tell whether the stranger was being sincere or jesting. The girl's eyes held Adelaide's stare. The princess glanced to the boiling pot. Two bowls were sitting on the hearth of the fireplace. Each held a small wooden spoon. Adelaide looked back to the girl.
"Oh, you're serious," she said softly. She felt guilty for dismissing the stranger's kindness. She could've easily left her in the woods. But she didn't. "Okay, I'll try it."
The girl's mouth turned up in a tiny smile and she turned back to the fireplace. She scooped a ladleful of stew into each bowl. She handed one to Adelaide and waited. The princess wrapped her fingers around the warm bowl and let the tendrils of steam caress her face.
"You're supposed to eat it," the girl said flatly.
Adelaide shot the girl an irritated glare. "I know how to eat."
The girl took a slow sip from her spoon. After a moment she pointed to Adelaide's bowl. "See, it's not poisoned."
The princess scoffed. "I didn't think you were trying to poison me."
Although the words were true, Adelaide still felt guilty. She was being awfully rude to the girl who opened her home to a stranger. Adelaide buried her pride and sipped her stew. The hot liquid was delightful. She could taste the carrots and parsley. When she swallowed, her throat warmed. Her stomach gurgled from the long-awaited food. She realized that the girl was watching her intently.
Adelaide smiled. "I like it."
The girl nodded once and began scooping her own serving into her mouth. She ate as if it were her last meal. Adelaide took the chance to really look at the girl.
Her arms were thin and scarred—most likely from the multitude of thorn bushes in the forest. Her legs copied the scrawniness of her arms. She was thin but toned. Again, Adelaide assumed her muscles were built from living in the woods. The girl's face was gaunt and Adelaide wondered how malnutrition could look so well on someone. She imagined how much prettier the girl's face would be once it filled in. the stranger seemed oddly familiar as Adelaide studied her features.
"It's rude to stare." The girl said without looking up from her bowl.
Adelaide felt a hot blush crawl up her cheeks and she focused on her own dinner. They continued to eat in silence. Famished, Adelaide consumed three more bowls before she needed to stop. Her stomach bulged from the excess of food. She leaned back against the wall and watched the girl as she washed the bowls in the washbasin in the kitchen.
Adelaide opened her mouth—closed it—and opened it again. "Thank you," she finally managed to say.
The girl didn't say anything. She simply nodded. Her hands continued to scrub the bowls. Adelaide stood and slowly made her way towards the girl. She stepped up beside her and placed her hand on the massive cauldron that still needed to be washed.
"Can I help?" Adelaide asked the girl.
She wordlessly handed Adelaide a brush soaked in water and resumed scrubbing. The princess took it and held it over the pot. She had never washed anything in her entire life—including her own body. She had ladies-in-waiting to do that for her.
"It only works if you actually scrub the pot." The stranger said. There was a strong mocking tone in her voice.
Adelaide rolled her eyes and began dragging the brush back and forth inside the pot. The suds began to bubble up and soon enough, she was up to her elbows in foam. Her fingers were beginning to wrinkle and her arm hurt from the exertion. Her wounded hand throbbed in agony. She glanced up at the girl standing beside her.
"Will you teach me?" Adelaide blurted out.
"Teach you what?" The girl answered.
"To hunt," the princess was surprised as her words. And judging by the look on the girl's face—so was she. Adelaide scrambled to finish her sentence. "I don't know how and I figured I should learn before you toss me back out into the wilderness."
The stranger smirked. It was a simply change in expression but Adelaide felt herself lighten from it. "I'm not going to 'toss' you into the wilderness. You wouldn't last half a day."
Adelaide held up a finger. "Pardon me, but I lasted until now, thank you very much."
"Barely," the girl chuckled. "You had gone as white as a ghost when I found you."
"But I was still alive." The princess wasn't going to lose this argument.
"I'll make you a deal." The girl said. "You can stay the night. In the morning, I'll teach you the basics. Then I'll send you on your way."
Adelaide smiled. "I promise I won't be a burden."
The girl let out a short laugh accompanied by a shake of her head. "You've already taken my bed and eaten all the stew that was to last me until the end of the week—it's a little too late for that promise."