The blankets on top of her were humble and homespun, but undeniably warm. She stirred feebly beneath them as the sun crested the distant horizon. Birdsong greeted her awakening, and a tray of food on the bedside table: brown bread, a piece of cheese, and what appeared to be warm mint tea.

She sat herself up in the bed and saw that she was in a different room than what she remembered. It was simple, containing only a bed, the small table, and a bureau. There was a woven tapestry on the wall beside the window, but no mirrors. Rhosyn thought she could hear Tethys' voice from beyond the room.

Halfway through the tea, Tethys reappeared, her smile as broad as ever. She made sure Rhosyn was feeling well enough to stand and gave her a dress that she brought in. It was warmer and studier than the nightdress she had escaped with, and a pleasant change from the silly silks and designs that her mother had taken to insisting on. The dress was followed by a pair of rabbit-skin boots and a heavy shawl.

"Are you ready to go downstairs?"

Tethys had been silent and helpful while Rhosyn dressed, but now she returned to her talkative self. Rhosyn was still reluctant to speak. She merely nodded, and though she felt able to walk, she did not protest when Tethys took her arm and led her out of the room.

She remembered the house better now. She was on the stairs she had seen yesterday, able to see the entire house. In one corner was a small kitchen: cupboards and a basin and a trapdoor leading to a cellar. The table was just beyond that, beside a door that led to a second bedroom. There was a small sitting area in front of the fireplace, but the chairs had been pushed back for a pile of blankets.

There were two men sitting on the chairs, waiting for Tethys to lead their new houseguest down. She did not recognize them, though she knew it must have been their hands obeying Tethys' orders yesterday.

When they reached the bottom steps, the younger-looking of the men stood and offered his hand to Rhosyn. He guided her firmly to the seat he had vacated and, after releasing her, took a seat on the stairs instead. Tethys stood behind the other man, resting her hand on his shoulder. His seat was turned to Rhosyn, and she lowered her eyes as he scrutinized her. He did not seem as friendly as Tethys.

"So you're the one these two found last night, are you?"

His voice was gruff, but not necessarily mean. Rhosyn nodded, not knowing what else to do.

"How did you find us out here? Where are you from?"

She tried to answer, but no words came. She shrugged instead.

"Do you have a voice or don't you?" he asked impatiently. She blushed, but still couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes.

"Sawyer," Tethys chided him gently. Leaving her position behind him, she knelt in front of Rhosyn, low enough to catch her eyes.

"Don't be frightened of my husband. He's harmless, and he means well."

At this, Sawyer grunted again. Muttering something impatiently, he donned hat and gloves and stomped outside. He shut the door quickly behind himself, but Rhosyn still shivered beneath her shawl.

Tethys pulled herself into his abandoned chair and took Rhosyn's hand reassuringly. "Don't let him frighten you," she insisted. "Take as long as you need to talk to us, okay?" Rhosyn nodded weakly. Sawyer called to Tethys from outside. Sighing, she rose to see what help he needed.

"My brother will stay with you," she told Rhosyn, pointing to the man on the steps. Then, to him, "Mind she stays warm, Ellis." He merely nodded.

The morning passed quickly for Rhosyn; her thoughts were dark and troubled. Whenever she felt especially chilled, she would stare intently at the fire until it soaked through her eyes and into her soul. She began to see flames whenever she closed her eyes.

Sawyer and Tethys were in and out of the house all day, adding more logs to the already significant stack beside the fireplace, or simply warming their hands against the blaze. Tethys would smile at her whenever it was her turn to fuel the fire, but Sawyer seemed to find her presence amusing. He glanced at her often, chuckling to himself about her obvious determination not to meet his eyes.

Ellis was inside the entire time, though he flitted in and out of her line of vision. At times she could hear him working behind her in the kitchen or rummaging in the cellar below. And once, when the house was particularly drafty from Sawyer's tromping inside and out, Ellis pressed a steaming tankard of apple cider into her hands and dropped into the vacant chair beside her with some cider of his own.

He stirred the fire in silence and sipped his drink. The headiness of the cider was intoxicating to Rhosyn, who drank gratefully. The drink warmed her insides more than the fire had been able to, and she felt herself relaxing as it coursed through her. It had drowned her black thoughts, for now.

After several long minutes of simple silence, she dared to glance at her companion. His skin was flushed from the cold, his eyes fixed on the fire as intently as hers had been. She could see the flames dancing in them, staining the brown eyes ocher.

He did not pressure her to speak; he simply wanted to make her comfortable. He set a hand on the armrest of his chair. It was bandaged, though Rhosyn could see spots of dried blood seeping through. It matched her own carefully bandaged hand.

She remembered the hands that had held her; they had shaken the glass from her and carried her to the upstairs bedroom. The pile of blankets she had seen in the fire, she realized, had been his bed last night. He had cleared them away earlier. It must be his room that she had taken.

She immediately felt guilty; both for how much this family had sacrificed on her behalf, and for her inability to thank them for it. No more. These people were not her mother, and she was safe here.

"Thank you."

Her voice seemed to startle him. She shifted awkwardly and jerked his shoulders into what must have been a shrug. She thought she saw the faintest hint of a shy smile, but it was gone instantly.

"Think nothing of it, lady," he said. His voice was soothing and warm. "I am sure you are used to far better than what we have been able to offer you."

"What do you mean?" She stiffened. Did they know who she was? What she had done?

He noticed her sudden rigidity—even if he didn't know how he had offended her—and immediately tried to calm her. "I meant nothing. I just assumed, with your silken nightgown. Besides—" he blushed, and stirred the fire as an excuse to look away, "—no one as pretty as you could be anything other than noble, whether you were born there or taken there."

She hung her head, her cheeks warm in the flames. "I'm not pretty," she mumbled. Again, Ellis noticed how uncomfortable she seemed, and said nothing more about her. The hesitant conversation turned instead to the house and his family, and continued well past when Sawyer and Tethys returned and the four of them sat down to dinner. Rhosyn relaxed a little, but she wasn't able to wholly shake her anxiousness until she surrendered herself to sleep.