Ingrid woke up to silence and pain. It was dark and tranquillizingly calm.

She recalled slowly the events happened last night, and realized, the pain was coming from her broken arm. It was bounded in soft textile.

She didn't move for a few minutes just stared out from her head. It was pitch dark except one thin line of shimmery light.

She felt something else too. It was as if thousands of spider web would cover her body.

"Did I die? Is this my coffin?"

She held up one of the "spider web" with her unharmed hand and slowly she understood it was hair.

It was her own hair.

She was examining other spider webs, and admitting it's all her hair when she felt something on her right face. It felt like sunshine warming her face.

The little prince turned her head right. Her whole body felt cramped.

Karakan laid there still. His eyes were slightly ajar. He looked very calm, like a marble statue.

Ingrid started to doubt it's realness, so she poked the statue-like figure's face.

-You grew all night and day. -He whispered very quietly and he kept staring at the northern the same way.

-Did you...-Pulled back Ingrid her finger embarrassed. Her voice was different. It was shifting and wanted to deepen. -Did you watch me all day? How long was it since I lay here like this? -She asked on her unfamiliar non-childish voice.

-I brought you here at night, now it is late afternoon.-He responded curiously.

Ingrid wanted to hug him as she thought about the horror she went through, but she stopped herself as she also remembered the picture of him and that dandy.
"I am most probably just a meat he keeps for backup. What else am I good?"

Her chest was hurting. She touched her flat chest with her unusually bigger hand. She turned away and clenched her eyes. Her shoulders started to shake.

"What happened, my body feel so strange. I mustn't! I mustn't cry now!"

The self persuasion didn't work, tears bubbled out from her eyes. The little prince tried to be silent as possible, and turned to the wall of the coffin.

It was silence. Karakan didn't do anything.

Minutes passed until Ingrid could turn around without any signs of sadness.

The southern prince's eyes were closed now, and one of his hand was holding one lock of Ingrid's hair.

Ingrid wanted to touch his hand, resting hers on his, but she couldn't make herself to do it. She felt like if she touches him he will disappear.

She felt asleep facing in his direction and watching his sleeping face.