The next morning when I awoke, I knew something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

Hurriedly, I slipped on the slippers Mama had provided me to walk around the inn and hurried on downstairs. On the landing, Sven was sweeping up. Yesterday, I hadn't been able to identify his features much because of the darkness...but now, since morning light was flooding through every window, I could see him crisp and clear.

He was tall, like I had said. His silvery-white hair had grown long into a mullet which framed his lean face. He wore a mid-thigh length tunic with draw-strings at the chest in a criss-cross pattern over which he had donned a sleeveless, brown jacket thing which seemed very thin and ragged. Under all of this, he wore plain trousers and holed slippers like mine.

A picture book representation of a peasant worker, though his face wasn't much like one's with his large hazel eyes that stared into mine and a very nice complexion to top it all off. As I got closer to walk towards the kitchen, I noticed that he had a little mole near his lip on the right side.

I pushed open the kitchen door and was instantly met by grey wisps of smoke. Mama had her back to me as she thrusted firewood into the little stove which had a long snout that ended out the ceiling, something I had noticed at Faustine's home as well.

I let out a loud breath and rolled up my sleeves, glancing around the kitchen for rations. But I only saw a small basket of potatoes stuck in one corner.

"Mama, let me help," I said quickly when I saw her struggling with the firewood. I hurried over next to her and she leaped back, startled at my presence. Maybe she hadn't heard me when I entered…

"Goodness gracious..." she muttered as she slowed her pulse with a calm hand to her chest. "You scared the living critters out of me. What're ya doing up so early, eh?"

I raised my eyebrows as I shoved the piece of wood into the fire and watched it merge with the orange flames.

"Lack of curtains," I commented as I stood up straight and checked my hands for splinters. I was surprised that Mama Ruth hadn't stopped me from helping her with the fire 'because I was a princess and princesses ought to be clean'. She had, in fact, handed me the wood herself.

"Mmm," she muttered as she hobbled over to the potato basket. "I'll see if Sven can scavenge for some spare fabric from the storage. You can flip it over the rail and use it as a curtain later."

As she talked, she bustled around the small kitchen, flipping the potatoes in a pot and filling the pot with water to the brim from a tap in the corner. Then she put the pot over the stove and waited for it to boil while I stood there awkwardly and watched her do all the work.

Mama was a short woman but it looked as if she hadn't always been that way. Old age had gotten the best of her, apparently. I offered to help her wherever I thought fit and Mama Ruth never gave the offer up.

"So...what's for breakfast?" I asked as I saw her chop up the boiled potatoes.

"Mashed spud," she grunted.

I was about to ask what the hell that even was when Sven opened the door.

"Done with the ground, 'um," he said huskily as he did a one-take at me. "Do you want me to do all the rooms on the first or just her's?"

"Thanks, Sev, sonny," Mama said as she slid all the chopped potatoes into a bowl. "Her's is fine. And did you sweep my room?"

"No."

"Good. Don't touch it. I've got my stuff spilled around and Whisker hates it when the carpet's all clean."

Silently, Sven shuffled back outside again and not before he had scanned me once again. I felt awfully uncomfortable as he did so, wondering if he'd comment about me but he just looked and left. His eyes never held the expression that he had any ill means of studying me.

I turned back to Mama mashing the potatoes. I didn't say anything when she sprinkled the mashed potatoes with salt and coarse black grains that looked like black pepper.

"Here, hold this-" She thrust the bowl of mashed potatoes at me. Then she proceeded to fill a small pitcher full with water and then she handed that to me as well. I stood near the doorway with both my hands filled and she pushed me aside as she hobbled out with plates and glasses in her hands. I didn't say anything at all but I did find it funny.

"We'll eat wherever you want," she said as she glanced at me above her specs when we were out in the main room where Sven had been sweeping before. Like at Faustine's, the floors were made of wood but the walls were made of some yellowish stone.

I struggled with the pitcher and the bowl as my hands were thin and frail, smoothed by never handling anything as heavy as this ever before. "Erm… we can eat wherever you guys usually eat. I don't mind."

Mama Ruth nodded and then called for Sven. He was up cleaning my room and he came back as soon as his name was bellowed.

"Bring out the table and the crates, Sven," Mama Ruth said as she looked up at her helper. I say 'helper' as I still had no idea what the relationship between the two was. Mama Ruth was yet to show any sign that Sven was her son or nephew or whatever and I wasn't one to assume.

Sven disappeared again and the next time he reappeared on top of the stairs, he was holding a wooden table over his shoulders and something under his arm that looked like a box. I waited as he descended and placed the table with a loud thud smackdab in the middle of the floor before us. Then, he proceeded to pull out box after box from the first box which he decorated neatly around the table and then sat himself down on the one closest to him.

My arms had started to hurt so I put the bowl of mashed potatoes and the pitcher on the table and unconsciously sat down on the box Sven had put next to my feet. To my surprise, it was wooden and hard and didn't collapse under my weight.

Mama distributed the plates and we started to eat.

It was the first time I was served such a bland meal since the day I arrived in this world but it did remind me of back home. Silently, we chewed on the 'Mashed spud' as Mama called it. The only sound around us was the chewing sounds and the occasional clinking of spoons to our plates. Sven poured himself a glass of water and continued his meal in complete silence.

Now that I was in very close proximity to him, I studied his face. His cheeks were hollow, as if he hadn't eaten much in the past month. But there was a healthy color on his face so I had to rule that out. He had droopy eyes, like a dog's and when he looked at me, his eyes lacked any shine.

Quickly, I smiled at him when he looked at me but I didn't receive a smile back, not even a side-lipped one. He went back to eating and didn't make any other movements till he was done. We all finished our small, bland meal quite soon and Sven picked up the table and crates once again and disappeared back upstairs.

Mama had just picked up the plates when there was a knock at the door.

"Whoozit this time?" Mama grumbled as she thrust the plates at me and went to answer.

I knew that it was rude to eavesdrop so I picked up all the dishes myself and one-by-one placed them on the kitchen counter. I was just rinsing my hands off when I heard the door shut outside and I went to see what it had all been about.

"Who was it?" I asked quietly as I rubbed my wet hands on the sides of my dress.

Mama turned around and I noticed that a very unsure expression was inscribed in her wrinkles.

"It was Nadja from up the street. Said that the princess has allegedly been killed. Rumors all over the place. People going crazy and whatnot," she said, looking a little faint. "Seems like Rainy boy's plan worked."

I sighed with relief, though deep down I did feel a bit uneasy about the whole thing.

"Are the guards investigating?" I asked as I fidgeted with my feet.

"Most likely," she muttered as her shoulders drooped. "The Emperor's no man to give up by just some mere speculation."

I 'hmm'ed' as Mama Ruth hobbled to her fortune-teller like room and shut herself in. This could turn out very bad, worse than before. What if the Emperor starts executing people accused of the princess's death in a blind rage? What if his love for his daughter ran deeper than I thought…?

I was in deep thought when I heard a loud clatter somewhere from above. I hurried upstairs and saw that Sven was groaning on the floor in the doorway of my room.

"Are you alright…?" I asked uncertainly as I reached out a hand to help.

He didn't say anything but a faint 'Mn' as he got up with jerky movements. My hand remained in the air and I awkwardly let it fall to my side when he didn't accept my help. When he was up, he walked past me and into the room at the very end of the corridor. His room, perhaps.

The door was open so I thought it would be alright to peek in. But then I wondered if I would appear unpleasant by getting all up in his personal space. But then I decided in favor of it and I tip-toed to the end of the corridor to take a look.

If Mama had said that all the rooms were the same, how had he set up his?

My hair appeared in the doorway, followed by my forehead and then my eyes, and I took a good peek. If I had thought Sven would be creative enough to have his room set differently than the rest, I was wrong.

It was exactly the same as mine when I had first opened the door, but a cleaner and a more fly-free version, of course. The bed was pushed to the side (like mine) with the small dresser and the ugly rug in front (his was a navy blue) and a grandma-like flowery cloth over his window, serving as a make-shift curtain.

Sven was laying on his bed, his back to me. He barely seemed to fit on it, but he had his knees up to his chin and he was shaking one foot vigorously. (Something similar to what Juwon used to do either when he had trouble focusing or when he just wanted to relax. I asked him to stop doing it once but he wasn't able to even if he tried.)

He had no blanket or anything over him but then it didn't look as if he was trying to sleep. The broom was leaned against the foot of his bed which was vibrating due to Sven's continuous leg shaking.

Sadly, I turned back around and silently went to my own room.