“She doesn’t look much like I expected.”
“What did you expect? I thought she was a corpse. Help me with these ashes.”
“Ma says she really is the Lost Princess, and she would be better than–”
“Bite your tongue!” the harsh whisper cut off the other girl. “If anyone hears you say such a thing, you’ll be food for the pigs!”
“I’m only saying what Ma said.”
“Well, she’s a fool. Look at her, she couldn’t take the regent if she had an army behind her. She’s just a helpless–”
“Actually,” I moaned, eliciting two quick gasps, “I am quite capable of taking care of myself.”
I chased my words with a contented yawn and stretched beneath the blankets. The pleasure ended abruptly when my muscles spasmed and cramped. I yelped, curling in on myself as I rubbed my thighs.
“Your Highness! Should I send for the healer?” A girl’s panicked voice called from across the room.
I opened my eyes and squinted against the weak light that filtered through the heavy curtains. Two girls stood by the fire, buckets of ash and piles of wood at their feet.
With a grim smile, I tucked the blanket to my chin. “No. I’ve suffered worse, unfortunately.”
I surveyed the room anew, absorbing its beauty. Warm golds and inviting greens adorned every surface, complemented by potted plants scattered throughout. A grin crept across my face, appreciating the effort to infuse verdant life into the frigid castle. The plants must have been moved overnight or early this morning. They couldn’t have survived in a vacant, fireless space.
Heavy curtains, the color of dark ivy, draped over a giant window. The glass must have shielded against the cold, as I would have felt a chill if it were just a hide. As I observed, a slip of a girl in a plain brown apron dress scampered over, quick and nimble.
“Would you like me to open the curtains?” she asked.
Despite the wear, her clothes were cared for. Her brown hair was plaited and piled atop her head, keeping it out of her way. She offered a shy smile, awaiting instructions.
“Yes, please,” I said, offering a small nod.
She drew the curtains aside, and I clamped my eyes shut. Rich, bright sunlight flooded in, nearly blinding me as it reflected off the fresh snowfall.
“Gods, does this window face north?” I asked, wincing at the intense morning light. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be greeted by a blinding northern sunrise each day.
“Nay, Your Highness, it faces east, toward the Great Iceland.”
Comforting. My room faced the land of giant ice bears and snow wolves.
“Wait,” I shot upright, cursing myself as my head pounded in response to the sudden move, “what time is it?!”
“Almost high noon, Your High–”
“Quick! Where are my clothes?!”
I leapt from the bed as if it were on fire. The servant near the hearth ran from the bedroom, and the girl at the window stood with her mouth open in shock.
“I swear by the gods, if you don’t tell me where my clothes are I will storm out of here wearing this!” I said, plucking at the heavy sleeping gown.
To be fair, it was far thicker and modest than what I normally wore, but it seemed to strike a sense of urgency.
“Here!” the other called.
I raced into the receiving space, through another doorway, then skidded to a halt.
Racks displayed an array of dresses, boots, belts, hats, cloaks, and scarves in every imaginable shade, along with colors I had never seen. A large silver mirror, rather than brass, leaned against the far wall. Padded chairs encircled a platform raised at the center.
“I will help you dress, Your–”
