"She asked me to leave it in her trunk, until you came again. It's almost as if she knew..." Clyde wondered with twinkling eyes.

I watched as he pulled the trunk down from a raised shelf with a grunt.

He wafted the dust away, "It's been a while since this was last opened. I apologize if you encounter much more grime during your stay, I heard that you wanted the place untouched."

I nodded, "Precisely, thank you for honoring my request."

He clicked the case open in one fluid movement and I gasped at what it encased. It was a dress that radiated a delicate pink tone. Floral embroidery danced around the hems. I cradled the dress in my arms as if it were my child. I ran my fingers over the finely knit seams. The fabric seemed to slip past my fingers because of how soft it was.

"It's charmeuse silk." Clyde stated in a soft voice.

"It's beautiful." I breathed.

He ran his fingers through his hair, "She picked the shade out herself after spending months saving up for the fabric. Her claim was that it would match your blushing cheeks perfectly."

The tears began rolling down my cheeks again, but this time I was careful to stop them before they hit the dress. I looked up at Clyde.

"I wish I could repay her somehow."

He held his hand out, "Enough of that, the bond she shared with you went beyond that of repayment."

I shook my head, "Oh Clyde, I wish I could have seen her one last time."

He knit his eyebrows together in frustration as he thought of something, "I tried my best to reach out, but no one would let me contact you during the coronation."

I shrugged, "If I had known, even the coronation would not have kept me from her. I would have left in a heartbeat to acknowledge her last breath."

Clyde gave me a warm smile, "Just hearing that is enough for her soul to rest in peace, Your Majesty."

Before I could chastise him for using my title again, someone cleared his throat from the doorway. Of course, it was Ash.

I beamed at him while holding out the dress, "Look at what Mrs. Wicker left me."

"It's lovely." He said at a glance before turning his attention to Clyde, "Thank you for appointing your home to us for this... experiment, of sorts. You won't regret it."

Clyde politely bowed, "It is my honor."

He took that as his cue to leave, but not before stopping to give me a comforting pat on my shoulder. I neatly placed the dress in my personal trunk, one of the only things I brought with me to this humble abode. A sudden chill swept across the barren, cement floors of the three-roomed shanty. I looked out the sandglass window, which wasn't ground fine enough to produce a transparent view of the outside world. I could still tell that the sun was setting as the shadows crept closer and closer. I crossed my arms and turned to face Ash, who had been rather stiff this entire time.

"We should start lighting some candles and have the hearth running if we're to see anything in time."

Ash's POV

I watched as she feebly crossed her arms, visibly affected by the cold air that had set in as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. I wanted to wrap my arms around her, but a nagging feeling held me back.

I shouldn't have overheard their conversation earlier.

I would have left in a heartbeat.

Each word hit my own heart with a pang. Did she really mean it?

I watched as she spoke of lighting the place up. I wordlessly nodded, waiting for her to fetch the candles and matches. After all, she would know how to navigate this place better than I. Not that there was much to navigate, in all honesty. This hut was smaller than our individual chambers, much less our joint one. I took in the concrete and rock that surrounded us. It felt awfully cold just looking at it, especially with the lack of finishing on the interior and meager furnishings. In the current room, the bedroom, a single cot laid against the corner with a wardrobe against the other wall. A few frilled curtains lined the rudimentary windows. I followed Evelyn to the next room over, the kitchen. Three unfinished cabinets hung over the narrow, wooden counter. Copper pots and pans were scattered across the counter and tin plates, bowls, and utensils were hidden away in the cabinets. Evelyn struggled to reach up and grab the matches on the top shelf.

After a few seconds of struggle, she gave me a sideways glance, "A little help, please?"

With I sigh and half a smile, I handed them to her in one fluid movement.

She beamed at me as she swatched one of them against the box, bringing flames to life. With that single match, she lit the candles one by one. As the flame neared the end of its line, she threw it in the fireplace. Only, it didn't roar to life as she had expected.

With a frown, she asked, "Why won't it light?"

The way she furrowed her eyebrows was undeniably endearing, especially against the soft glow from the candles. Giving in, I walked towards the hearth. The match glowed against the tinder, but didn't catch on. I looked to the side and found more kindle, gently placing it in the embers. I watched as it slowly caught it and grabbed the fan to intensify the spread.

She looked at me in awe, "Well would you look at that! Ashton Devereux knows how to start a fire!"

I shrugged, "I wasn't going to call on a servant every time it went out in my room. It's rather uncomfortable in the middle of the night."

She pouted, "Well I suppose this is how we'll be making dinner tonight."

"What?" I quirked an eyebrow.

I can set a fire, but knew nothing about food.

I watched as she sauntered towards the cabinets and pulled out an onion, a potato, and a pot.

She handed me the pot, "Be a dear and fill this with water from the pump outside?"

I looked at her with a straight face, "You're jesting."

She shook her head, "There's no one to fetch water and keep it at large quantities here. Mrs. Wicker had to pump her water daily! Even that is a blessing, considering that many have to trek to the communal well to get their water. You only have to walk but three feet."

Not wanting to protest over that, I begrudgingly walked out. At least the sun was still out. How did a pump work again? I pulled the handle up and watched as it fell back down on its own. A little water spurted out from the other end. I repeated the process and watched as more water collected in the pot. Using a little more force, I managed to fill the pot to the brim with several more pumps. My arms felt a tad sore, but I would never admit to it.

On my way back, I saw a privy behind the house. Thank god our stay was only for the night. I can't even bear the thought of using a privy in the outdoors, at the dead of night nonetheless.

She greeted me with diced vegetables when I returned, "That's perfect! You can place the pot on the rod over the fireplace."

I obliged and watched as sizzling noises were produced from the union of the fire and water.

"What exactly are you planning on doing with this?" I asked her.

"Gruel." She stated.

As soon as the water started boiling, she dumped the potato and onion slices into the pot, "Technically, the onion is a luxury good," she added a dash of salt, "and so is any type of seasoning."

I thought back to our elaborate meals, "Things that are commonplace for us."

She nodded, "How are people surviving off of this? There's hardly any sustenance in it."

"What about grains?" I asked.

She shrugged, "There's a bag of wheat over there, but I have no idea how to prepare anything from it. Also... The Wickers are well off in comparison to the other villagers. If Clyde wasn't a bachelor, I don't doubt that the cupboard would be overflowing."

I nodded, yet I couldn't help but scrunch my nose at the mention of his name.

We were both huddled around the fire now. She grabbed a blanket from the bedroom and wrapped it around us. Nothing about this piece of cloth compared to the furs in the castle. It was rather scratchy. However, the warmth that radiated from her kept me comfortable. She took the liberty of laying her head against my chest. I blissfully took in her lavender scent.

"You don't seem to like Clyde." She murmured.

"Would you have really left in a heartbeat?" I blurted.