Lady Of Lake And Arrow |A Swan Lake Retelling|: Book One

Chapter 3

There was a time when the Continents were one and pure.

The Faerie King had four children; two princes and two princesses.

The youngest child, Princess Mertham, was the kindest. The one to stop her siblings' fights.

But she died–by an assassin or something else no one knew, for it was kept a heavily guarded secret–and the whole kingdom wept.

Thus her siblings slowly turned their grief into anger.

And as they fought without anyone else able to stop them, both the Faerie and mortal people suffered and watched as their whole world broke into three, the rest of the Faerie King's children burning along with it.

Since then, Mertham was known as the Goddess of Wisdom . . . and Misery.

- A Tale of Misery -

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The "bath chambers" weren't so much a chamber but a tiny room with an equally tiny bathtub and basin. A prison guard had thrown folded plain clothes after Jessa before locking the chamber doors securely.

Jessa turned on the tap, the water fortunately lukewarm. Not that she'd mind if it was freezing cold like the water they gave her to drink in the cell. It was just a matter of preference.

While waiting for the bathtub to fill, she washed her face and picked out dirt underneath her nails in the basin.

Gradually cleaning herself up, Jessa almost wanted to cringe when she studied her features. Not because she was ugly–though she didn't know if she would've been pretty either. After all her time as a street wanderer, it was hard to tell with her bony limbs and sunken dark eyes. But that was the least of Jessa's worries, since there was absolutely no reason to look good in front of people–especially ones she disliked.

Jessa's stringy hair now hung limp around her shoulders, skin pale as ever. After staying in prison, Jessa thought that she finally physically looked what she felt inside: hollow. Hollow expression. Hollow cheekbones. Hollow aches in her body.

Or actual, physical aches. She couldn't really tell the difference.

She missed her knives, where it would used to rest in her jerkin and Jessa could take it out anytime. It was, obviously, taken by the prison guards the first time she came here. They'd probably wouldn't give it back to her this time either.

Jessa sighed, taking her now-ruined tunic and the rest of her clothes off, slowly sinking into the tub. She sank until only the top half of her face was above the water, her hair spreading in a fan around her, tickling her cheeks.

It was such a shift from the prison to this that Jessa took the moment for granted, though still a little aware of the bath chamber doors; just in case some guard decided to come bombarding in for an unknown reason.

Wrapping her arms around her chest, she basked in the silence. The chamber was lit only by a few torches on the wall. Jessa watched as the fire flickered, creating shadows that would never cease to stop moving anytime soon.

She thought of Terhen, with his fiery abilities. What was a person like him doing with the Royal Family of Andalia? She sensed that Terhen wouldn't leave the Royal Family anyways, even if he was asked to.

His loss, then.

Jessa sat in the tub until the water turned cold. Grabbing a towel, she stepped out and wrapped herself with it, putting on the given trousers and plain brown cotton shirt. Her previous tunic and pants were too ruined to be worth taking with, so she left them in the chamber. Brushing off the excess soot from Terhen's fire attack on her leather boots, Jessa slipped them on, feeling comfortable in its familiarity.