“When you remember me, it means that you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me.” - Frederick Buechner

Drifting in and out of conciousness in my dark room, time remains completely irrelevant until I finally wake up, feeling as renewed as a lamb for slaughter. The first thing I do when I manage to pull myself from bed, is to draw my curtains open. The blinding sun subsides into a comfortable glow as my eyes adjust to the light.

It looks as if it is early in the morning. Initially I think of taking a bath, but then the tempting thought of swimming crosses my mind. After tying my hair into a bun and dressing, I peek into the hallway. Two soldiers are stationed at the end of the hallway, backs faced towards me. My door closes behind me with a noiseless thud as I tiptoe down the corridor. I am met by another pair of shoulders as I round the corner.

When I round the corner, I see two more soldiers in the next hallway.

I return to a normal walking position and pass the guards.

I nod to them, but my way forward is blocked when they cross their weapons, denying me passage.

“My lady, we would have to request you to return to your room.”

My fists ball as I see that his polite words are not in keeping with his harsh facial expression.

“I would like to go to the library,” I say, in what I hope is a voice filled with authority.

“I apologise my lady, but you are to remain in your room until the King summons you.”

“Please?”

“No.”

The thought that I've exchanged a faraway cell for a more familiar prison weighs on me as I return to my room.

I'm indecisive on the subject of what to wear after I've taken a luxurious bath. Even though I usually mostly choose my own outfits, Ria would always offer valuable input.

With a pang I realise that I have barely spared her a thought the past few days. Everything has been so rushed and nerve-wracking - Caith and I trying to stay ahead of my pursuers while combatting them, exhaustion and the elements. I went into survival mode, barely leaving room in my mind for other thpughts.

My guilt lifts up as I realise that she should be back in Raven's Peak and that we will be reunited soon. I think I should give her leave for a few weeks.

But where would she go? She has no family at all, and no other

As if reading my mind, I hear my door close.

Perhaps maintaining a facade of normalcy would help both of us temporarily forget the ordeals we've just been through. I cannot imagine what she went through during our captivity. “Ria! I am in dire need of your help doing my hair. I feel the need to do something with it.”

“My lady, my name is Patricia. This is Bernia and Kelke. We are your new maidservants,” an unfamiliar voice screeches.

When I turn around, I am met by three ancient crones with grey hair tied into stiff buns and black dresses with heavily feathered hems. The unspoken warning in their dark, beady eyes warn me to never voice the thought that their crooked noses are similar to the beaks of vultures.

Patricia is very skinny, and quite tall. Her translucent skin allows me to see the bones and veins of her hands.

Bernia, the exact opposite of Patricia, is a cube. I cannot determine if she is longer than she is wider, or the other way round. Her fingers are pink sausages. I cannot guess where her face ends and her neck begins, and which one of the three folds in that area is her true chin.

Kelke is of average built and average height; everything about her screams average. I do not think I would have noticed her if she wasn't accompanied by the other two. Only her nose is not average.

“Where is Ria?”

“Her services have been relocated,” Patricia, or henceforth called Crow One, answers.

“Why?”

“If she could not teach you that it is appropriate to wear black in a time of mourning, she is clearly inadequate. The king realised this, and appointed us to fill the gap in your education. I hope that we can undo the damage that has already been caused.”

My fists ball, before the go limp as thr realisation hits me: my brother died.

Unspoken rules dictate that I must wear black for the next month. My king died, so that is another extra month; and a third month of wearing black because I am from the royal family.

It is as if I am erasing his memory by forgetting to honour him in the right way. Despair crawls closer.

Crow One's irritating, high-pitched voice drums into my ears, but I only catch the last few words of her sentence. “-during the day.”

“I do not have any black dresses.”

She scowls and answers curtly. “I have just informed you that black dresses will be delivered to your wardrobe during the day. Bernia is holding a black dress for you to wear today. You have to pay attention to what people are saying.” She adds ‘My lady’ as an afterthought.

“Thank you, Bernia for your trouble. Will you please hand me the dress?”

Crow Three chimes in. “A lady does not dress herself.”

Crow One continues: “We will dress you, after we have assisted you in bathing.”

“I have already taken my daily bath.”

“We will assist you,” Crow Two thunders.

They usher me into the bathroom and strip me from my clothes, forcing me, not gently I must add, into the bath. No part of me survives the onslaught of yheir scrubbing attempts. My hair suffers the worst fate of all: despite my protest a large chunk of my hair is decapitated.

I have to say that I am impressed by the end result. However, I will not give the Crows the satisfaction of thanking them.

My dark mood blackens when I see the dress the Crows have brought me. It is an ancient dress with long sleeves, decorated with black feathers - exactly like the ones they are wearing.

They force me into the horrible garment and pull my hair into a bun - just like theirs.

A simmering rage starts to take root. I would have to start calling myself Crow Four very soon, as my head will soon be covered in grey hair from the stress and torture they are inflicting on me.

“Oh, dearie, you finally look like a presentable lady, ready for marriage,” Crow Three, Bernia, croaks. Her voice is equally irritating to Crow One’s voice, but not as high pitched. It is lower, and really like that of a crow speaking.

I do not grace her with a reply.

“We have done our duty,” Patricia announces. “You are to remain here until summoned.”

Again I do not answer.

They leave me wordless in my room.

The festering rage explodes. I rip the ribbon out of my hair. My hair is still long enough for it to be made into a proper style. I trot to the bathroom. Luckily the crows left the scissors they used to cut my hair.

My heart pangs when I see my locks falling to the ground, but I have no mercy to spare. However, the end result of my vigilante curls dancing on my head is quite pleasing.

No one bothers me for the next few hours, so I am able to perfect my act of rebellion. I cut the dress' sleeves off and remove the feathers. I find a few black beads which I sew onto the dress.

After tying a red ribbon into my hair, I lie down on my bed. A deliberate knock on the door captures my attention. I wait for the appropriate amount of time before I say ‘Enter’.

Two Ardam guards - different ones than the ones I have already seen - enter.

“My lady, the king has summoned you.”

Following the guards to the Map Room, I am filled with apprehension. The last time I was in there, my brothers sent me away on a journey that didn't go as exoected. And now evrything has changed.

As I enter, I notice that Ferdaid is also dressed in black, even though it is not necessary for him to do so. The heir to a throne does not need to wear black - I know; mourning etiquette is very confusing.

The memory of being here, with Friduric, resurfaces somewhere in my mind.

“Ferdaid, my dearest brother, I am really glad to see you.” I want to hug him, but something in his eyes warns me to tread carefully. Instead, I take a deep bow: “My king, I apologise for my forward behaviour. I am just really glad to be reunited with you, especially in this sad time.”l

“Lady Ardam, you will have to work on your manners.”

My fists ball up at my side. “That is the first thing you say to me when you see me for the first time after I have been kidnapped and fleeing for my life, and losing our brother?” I say politely, but I know that my anger is evident in my words.

“That is why I appointed three new ladies to wait on you.”

“I do not appreciate you meddling in my affairs. I have the freedom to choose my own ladies,” I say through clenched teeth.

“You have been allowed too much freedom until now. It will stop.”

“That is why you posted guards outside my room: to keep me a prisoner in my own home?”

“I am your king, and your protector: I decide what is best for you,” Ferdaid declares decisively.

I explode. “But you are also my brother! You are the only family I have left in the world, but clearly that does not matter to you.”

Ferdaid wants to reply but I turn my back on him and walk out of the room.

The guards are too astonished to accompany me. Running down the hall, I quickly slid the portrait that hides my escape tunnel away. My hand enclose a ligtglobe as I close the portrait behind me.

After following the tunnel that I know so well, I emerge at the cave and pond. Taking off my shoes, I sit down on the narrow ledge and dangle my feet into the cool water. Anger, grief, and fear crush down on me.

If such a feat were possible, I would reverse the time back to the past week with Caith where everything was uncomplicated.

I need to do something that makes me feel free; something that reminds me of the uncomplicated life. My face lights up when a stark raven mad idea enters my thoughts - with the emphasis on the stark, well not totally.

A smile lights up my face as I undress. For a moment I feel self-conscious in my undergarments, but the desire to feel free overrules all else.

Time stands still as I jump into the pool - suspended in the air for a second before being immersed in the cool water. I resurface with a child-like giggle. The sun's warmth pleasantly tingles my skin as I drift on my back with closed eyes, allowing me to ponder my problems.

I need to figure out what to do with my life. Ferdaid will most certainly not allow me to work in the tents of the injured anymore. It seems as if he wants me to become a real lady of the court. I always knew that the day would come that I would have to grow up and assume my place among the adults.

He will want to marry me off to some old, blotch-faced lord soon, or even worse, one of my disgusting cousins.

I just feel that there is more that I can do with my life than sit in court or keeping a house.

The sun starts to feel warmer on my skin. I sigh. I wish I could remain here for the rest of my days.

“Can I join you?”

I immediately recognise Caith’s voice.

“Caith! You are a ray of sunshine in my dreary life!” I exclaim and open my eyes.

His laugh is warmer than the sun and purer than water. “I like what you did with your hair. It reminds me of the forest.”

Not seeing how I am similar to a tree, I mutter “thanks” and reach up to touch my curls, only to realise that I am dressed only in my undergarments. My cheeks heat up.

“So do you do this quite often?” Caith asks smilingly.

“All the time.” Of course, I am referring to swimming in the pool. “O! Not almost naked, not quite often.” Hiding my face in my hands, I mumble in attempt at defusing the awkwardness of the sitiation I am finding myself in. “What I mean to say is that I swim a lot in the pool, but never in only my undergarments.”

“I understood exactly what you meant to say.”

“I am glad you did, because I am sure I did not understand myself.”

A most dashing smile lights his face up, causing me to feel unfamiliarly queasy.

“May I join you for a swim?”

“Since I owe you my life, I am sure I can make this compromise,” I say jokingly.

Caith takes his shoes off, and then his shirt. His muscles ripple beneath his smooth, slightly tanned skin. The fluttering in my stomach worsens as I watch him masterly diving into the pool.

“You do not have any weapons with you,” I state when he resurfaces with wet curls clinging to his angular jaw.

“I was relieved of my duties.”

“Oh. I am sorry. It is my fault. You were disgraced on my behalf.”

“True, but your words to Eoghan saved my life.”

“I still owe you seven thousand apologies.”

He rolls his eyes. “I have no need for apologies. However, I do appreciate a good gossip and some grumbling. You said that you have a dreary life?”

His odd, archaic word choice halts me for only a moment, before I launch into recounting recent events. “Yes, I do! My brother has fired my lady in waiting, or I hope he did merely that, and replaced her with three old crows. Even worse, there are guards in front of my door. I am not allowed to go anywhere without the King’s permission.”

“That does not seem like a too big problem. You have clearly been able to escape to this pool.”

“He will make sure that this will be the last time.”

“He is just concerned about you.” Caith's tone of voice tells me that he doubts the truth of hos own words.

“I do not think so. He just wants to control my every move.”

“Aebbé, you are wrong. He fears that you will be kidnapped again or disappear from the castle. He has lost two members of his family, and he believed that he had lost you too. He does not want the void to get any bigger.”

“Two members of his family? My father has died a long time ago.”

A sliver of recognition flashes in his eyes.

“What did you just realise?” I ask when I see that he does not want to answer me.

“It is not my place to tell you, but you have a right to know.”

“What? It sounds like you have more unpleasant news to share with me.”

My heart freezes

“Queen Claira disappeared during the night.”

“Claira is gone?”

“They have sent soldiers out, and searched the whole castle, but they were unable to find any trace of her.”

I frown. “That is not good. And my nieces?

“Ferdaid didn't tell you?”

“What should he have told me?”

The expression on Caith's face makes my heart sink to the bottom of the pool.

“Shit, this is messed up,” he says more to himself than to me. “Aenne and Aesce were found drowned in their bath the day before King Friduric died. Their maids have been taken to the dungeons.”

Pushing the threatening despair, anger and loss away is not easy as I continue to stare at him in disbelief for the longest time.

My voice croaks as I finally answer him. “It indicates that there is an enemy in the castle.

“That might be an implication.”

Focus on something else, Aebbé. Think of something that Caith can say so you can hear his voice and focus on that, and not on the grief.

“What do your duties entail now? Do you sill have any?”

“I have been demoted to the first level in my order, which is better than being dead. I am basically an errand boy and a doormat”

“You know I can never repay you.”

“There is a way,” Caith says with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“What?”

My thoughts on an internal philosophical debate on human desires, and the complexity of life and people, and Caith's morality (I have no doubt on the steadfastness of his values) is interrupted by Caith looking at me with a glint in his eyes.

“You did not hear anything I just said,” Caith says accusingly.

“I am certain that you have not said anything,” I say with a frown.

“I have not.”

Caith splashes water in my face.

“Oh no, you did not just do that!”

“I did,” he says with a mischievous smile.

“That would count as assaulting someone of importance. I should have you arrested,” I say with a straight face.

Caith looks confused.

I start to swim to the side.

“Aebbé, I am sorry. I did not mean to upset you.”

“I am not,” I say before turning around and assaulting him with a wall of water.

“You are a deceitful one!” Caith exclaims and splashes me with more water.

I turn my head away, and move both my hands in the water so that Caith is confronted by a continuous torrent of water.

Suddenly I feel a hand on my head and I am pushed under the water. The water is clear.

I reach for Caith’s arm with both my hands and pull him. He does not resist. He is still smiling. I look at him under the water, his face accentuated by the crystal clarity. Water does not have a colour. Even his eyes seem to smile; even if only just a glint.

Caith takes both my hands and pulls me up while he is swimming up.

I drown in air when we resurface.

I smile. “Have I repaid my debt?”

“It is a beginning,” he says with a smile.

“Good, because I have to return to the castle now.”

“I’ll climb out first,” he says and swims to the side opposite my cave.

“Do not worry, Aebbé. I’ll find a way to rescue you from the castle,” he promises as he pulls his shirt over his head, the material sticking to his broad chest.

“I know you will,” I whisper as I watch him walk away, before following the tunnel back to the castle.

When I emerge, two guards are waiting for me. “My lady, the king has ordered us to take you to your room the moment you arrive.”

I nod in resignation and allow them to escort me to my prison.