𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑 || 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑯𝑰𝑻𝑬 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑬𝑵

𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑉

~The Far Tower~

When Catherine awoke from her fretful hours of sleep, she found that John had sent a bath, just as he had promised. Her eager eyes drank in the wooden tub and the water within it, watching the crystal clear liquid that her body would soon be submerged in.

Soon she could wash away the grime that covered her and regain a remanence of who she used to be. 'Who I am' She told herself firmly. She was still Lady Catherine Percy, she was still the daughter of an Earl and ruler of the North....only she felt as if that life now belonged to another soul, another girl now left behind.

Pushing the woollen cloak that covered her aside, she stood with trembling legs, trying to find her balance. She felt so weak, so frail as her vision swim before her and she stumbled forward, collapsing with a hiss next to the bath when her knees struck the stone floor, cutting them mercilessly. Her small hands clutched at the wooden side of the tub and her young face grimaced while she tried to push herself up, failing miserably so that she was forced to slump to the floor once more.

Tears sprung to her eyes, angry tears that displayed her frustration. 'Why could I not be stronger?' She cried in her mind 'Why can I not be like the Queen?' The dirt on her skin felt like it stained her soul, tearing away who she was and Catherine suddenly felt the urge to wipe it away, to submerge herself in the water and wash away the grime.

With deft, but shaking, hands she stripped her nightgown from her, tossing the ruined garment into a corner and shivering in the cold. She looked at her hands, at the dirt pushed beneath her nails and the scratches on her palms. The young girl wept to see them, squeezing her eyes shut as she forced herself upright and climbed into the bath.

She gasped at the icy water that covered her skin, almost freezing her where she sat. It was no warmer than water kept out on a deep winter's night....but it was water all the same and soon she found herself cupping the cold liquid, splashing her face her neck, trying to stem the blood that oozed from her knees.

Snatching up the sponge that had been left beside the tub, she soaked it in the water and pressed it to her wounded face, flinching at the sting it caused before relaxing into its icy relief. 'Perhaps they will begin to heal now', she thought before tending to the cuts on her knees, finding a smile on her chapped lips as her skin began to clear of dirt. She was returning to herself.

Slightly.

Taking a deep breath, Catherine forced her head under the water, whimpering slightly at the bitter cold though it washed the dirt from her hair, retuning it to its natural hue. She ran her pale fingers through the flaxen locks, untangling them as best she could before she scrubbed herself once again with the sponge, almost rubbing her skin raw in her efforts.