‘Oh.’ He swallowed. ‘No, they—they’re both dead, now.’
Shock rippled through her. ‘I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…’
‘No, it’s alright.’ He gave her a sad smile. ‘It’s been some years now. Of course it still hurts, but…’
‘I understand, if only a little bit,’ Sonya said. ‘I lost my mother when I was a baby. I never knew her, yet still I miss her.’
He looked pained. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, voice gentle. He looked as if he wanted to say something else but then thought better of it. He shook his head.
He was so sweet, and he had no reason to be. There was nothing she could do for him. He was being kind for the sake of beingkind. Even though he was practically a stranger, she felt as if she knew him, as if she was safe with him. Maybe shewastoo trusting.
‘Get some rest,’ he said. ‘In the morning, we can figure out what to do.’
Feeling bold, Sonya reached out and touched his arm. Emotion crossed his face, something she couldn’t quite understand.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
4
The next morning, Sonya woke to the sound of roosters crowing. They seemed to be just outside her window, which was strange. She had never heard them this close before; the roosters were outside the kitchens, on the lowest floor of the castle, very far away from her high tower.
Had she fallen asleep in the kitchens last night? That had happened once. She had woken to the sound of roosters and been fiercely scolded by her father, as well as the head cook, Arabella.
Sonya opened her eyes, bracing for a scolding from Arabella now. It was early dawn, and she wasn’t in the kitchen at all. Her gaze strayed to the window across from her; the sky was barely pink, tufts of white clouds drifting.
Confusion rippled through her, and she rubbed her eyes. Usually, Sonya woke to the maids opening the thick curtains in her roomto let in the sunlight—but there were no maids here. She wasn’t in the castle.
The night came back to her, and she sat up. The room was in worse shape in the daylight, teeming with boxes and baskets and odd objects. Sonya stretched her arms, cracking her neck. She hadn’t slept that badly; the mattress was comfortable, and the blanket was warm.
Sonya put the soft blanket aside and stood on the wood floors, barefoot. She had taken her wet socks off last night, and she found them on the floor. As she slipped them on, her hair fell in front of her face, and she touched the ends, which felt even shorter now.
There was a mirror in the corner of the room, and Sonya approached it. Her mouth fell open as she took in her reflection; she truly was unrecognizable.
Her usually flawless brown skin was streaked with dirt, and herhair.
‘Oh my goodness gracious,’ she whispered, touching her hair. It was just above her shoulders and an absolute mess, uneven and tangled and frizzy. There were some locks that had a wave and even a slight curl to them, but most of her hair had dried badly.
Sonya raked her hands through her hair, trying to fix it, though the act didn’t accomplish much. She put Elspeth’s boots back on, then opened the bedroom door, sticking her head onto the landing. It seemed everyone was still asleep.
With light footsteps, Sonya went to the bathroom, freshening up. She stripped off her clothes and washed her body, then wet her hair and tried to smooth it. There were still some knots, and it was too short to braid back, but that was the best she could do. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much she could do with the dress, which was a bit damp still and most certainly dirty.
With a sigh, Sonya put the dress back on, then exited thebathroom. The door to the bedroom Azam had pointed out as his was firmly closed.
She went down the stairs and, in the hallway, she turned into the main living area, though not before glancing over her shoulder at the mystery door across the way. She wondered what was behind it. There was a faded spot on the door where there probably used to be a sign, but Sonya couldn’t make out what it might have said.
She closed the door to the living room behind her so she wouldn’t wake the inhabitants of the cottage. It was small, and surely noise would travel. It wasn’t like the castle; if she was in her tower, she had no idea what else was going on.
After she closed the door, Sonya stood in front of it for a moment, taking everything in. The cottage was…messy, to say the least.
On her left was a fireplace and the living space arranged around it, while across from that was the kitchen, and on her right was the dining area. It was all in one big open area, with clutter in every space.
The wooden dining table to her right was covered with papers. Some looked like notices or bills, while others were colored with paints. The table had six chairs, though two of them were set in front of the fireplace on her left. There was a blanket across one of the chairs and pillows from the sofa on a rug on the floor, beside the chairs.
There was ash all across the hearth and floor, as well as stray dolls and blocks. In one corner there was an old rocking horse. Sonya spotted knitting needles and a spool of bright yellow yarn on the sofa.
She went to the kitchen, where the sink was half filled with dirty dishes. There were half-clean hanging teacups and saucepans and ladles on the wall, along with shelves of stacked plates and bowls in disarray. The sight should have horrified her, but it felt quaint.
The cottage was messy, but it was lived in—a stark difference from her rooms at the castle, which were perfectly sterile thanks to Roshan’s worries for her health.
