Howl's Twisted Castle

7: Say My Name

What was it about a bath that made everything in the world seem better? Even after an unusually long day at the shop, Lettie would draw me a bath, insisting I'd earned it for all the hard work I'd done that day. I almost never argued with her. Lettie had a way with winning any argument and I knew it gave her joy to take care of me. I had to agree, hunching over my work all day was terrible for my posture and my fingers were always raw from handling needles, so baths really were the best remedy.

As I held the bar of soap, I turned my hands over, scrutinizing them. They were still covered in little scars from needlework and scissor cuts, even if they looked a lot older now. I settled back into the tub and breathed contently. The warmth of the water soothed my aching skin and the herbal soak Markel had given me did wonders for my muscles and joints. I almost felt like me again.

It was hard to accept what the witch of the waste had done to me, but I had to remind myself that things could have been a lot worse. She could have killed me, but she didn't. She could have harmed Lettie, but she didn't. I took solace in the fact that the effects of her curse on me were purely physical, nothing more.

If anything, my body now suited a person who bends over her needlework for ten hours or more.

Still, every time I risked a look down at my body, my gnarled fingers and knobby knees reminded me of my punishment. Even the mirror seemed to mock me, peeking around the tattered dress that hung across it, showing me in glaring detail everything I hated about my new, old body.

I dispelled those thoughts by pulling the plug out of the tub and easing myself slowly out. Markel had been kind enough to leave the assortment of old dresses out on the ledge. After wrapping myself in the towel, I pulled the needle and thread out of the pocket of my discarded clothing and set about fixing one of the dresses.

The dress in question was a faded royal blue number paired with a white sash that came in under the bust. The seams were beginning to unravel, but apart from that, it was entirely wearable. Using my ever trusting whip stitch, I closed the loose seams and plucked the stray threads using my teeth. Satisfied with my handiwork, I slipped it on and tied the sash with an artful bow in the back. I may be old now, but it's no excuse not to dress nicely. I found another white sash amongst the dresses and tied my hair into a braid down my back, using the sash to finish the look.

The bath cleaned the wound on my head well enough that my hair disguised it. I folded the towel neatly, tossed the soiled dress into the waste bin and gave myself a smirk in the mirror.

Not bad Sophie, not bad at all.

I decided that I'd spend some time mending the other dresses before lunch, so I tucked them under my arm and opened the door, honestly feeling better than I had all morning.

"Markel, I don't know what you put in that herbal bath soak, but it worked wonders on me! I really must repay you," I singsonged happily, making my way over to the to the rocking chairs.

Just as I rounded the staircase, I picked up on not one, but two voices in the lounge. Standing with his head turned away from me, Howl smoothed his fingers over his hair as he removed his top hat. He placed it gently on the mantel, running a finger along the stitching before he turned around and met my gaze. My body responded instantly, and without thinking, I squeezed the spool of thread in my hand and embedded the needle in my palm.

I gasped in pain and dropped the dresses, gripping my hand at the wrist. Markel shot up out of his chair and was in front of me in an instant. He quickly plucked the needle out and staunched the bleeding with one of the discarded dresses. Howl, on the other hand, stood silently next to Markel, staring at me with the most peculiar look.