The guard with the glaive rushed forward to kneel down beside Cognac. He tried to lift her face but she avoided him, stiffly crying and hiccupping into the ground. He touched at her hair and cheeks gently, frantically looking between her and Odessa before asking, “Little messenger, what are you doing here? Who is this you bring to us?” Still ticking his gaze back and forth, he noticed Odessa’s stained socks, and then the mangled and bloody shoes tied to Cognac’s feet. “You’re injured, the both of you…”

“We have to see the prince,” Odessa told him, ignoring his concern. She bent down and grabbed at Cognac’s shoulders, heaving her back up and supporting her weight.

The guard stood back up as well, surprised by the bold request. “First, you will see a doctor,” he said. He nodded to the other guard, and they wordlessly picked up the two girls and turned back toward the castle gates.

“I can walk, guard brother,” Odessa protested.

He looked down at her with a pinched expression. “You have walked far enough,” he said.

They were taken past the grand entry and through a long hallway, and then deposited in a room furnished with six low tables and a wall of cabinet drawers. Everything seemed to be made of polished wood inside the estate. It was a stark difference from the academy Odessa and Cognac came from, which was all stone and marble. The wood felt warm, and it inspired a kind of homesickness. It was a foreign world to the two girls, but it seemed like the kind of place you would dream about as a child.

After a moment, a woman came into the room carrying two steaming buckets. A young girl, barely an adolescent, followed behind her. They both had on dark robes that reached the floor, and their sleeves were tied back neatly. The older of the two had her hair braided and weaved into pretty loops at the top of her head. The other had it done up like a flower on one side, with the excess falling over her shoulders in two straight strands. They came up to the table Cognac and Odessa sat on.

“My name is Pin,” the woman said. “I am the doctor at this estate. With me is my assistant, Roe.”

Cognac was barely looking up. Noticing this, Odessa nodded at the doctor and told her, “My name is Odessa, and this is Cognac. We come from Lark’s Academy for Young Girls.” It was redundant to say so, while they still wore their uniforms, but it was the kind of introduction that comes to you naturally, having said it so many times in your life.

Pin and Roe sat down in front of Odessa and Cognac respectively, and Pin placed the buckets on stools near their feet. They started to slowly peel away the girls’ bloodied socks while they hissed at the sensation. “What happened to you two?”

Odessa looked again to Cognac. She was listless, staring forward at nothing. She blinked slowly, and then with a heavy expression, met Odessa’s gaze. Her eyebrows crinkled together sadly, and then she turned her head away again.

Quietly, Odessa said, “The academy was ambushed. I didn’t see it myself, but Cognac did. And I heard the commotion, without understanding what was happening. We ran here, unsure of where else to find safety.”

Pin’s face scrunched with worry while she carefully pulled Odessa’s feet into the warm water while Roe did the same to Cognac. “Ambushed?” she asked.

Odessa nodded.

Cognac threaded her fingers together and squeezed them against each other. Staring down at her hands, she mumbled, “There was a group of shabby looking people. I’ve never seen people like that here. They were shooting at us with arrows. The groundskeeper was killed. Many of our classmates were being tied together with ropes when I began to run.”

Odessa put one of her hands over Cognac’s, sharing her sorrow and her loss. Roe was absorbed in her task washing Cognac’s feet, but Pin looked at them with sympathy.

“Your feet have been brutalized, for you to come such a distance overnight—in such stiff leather shoes, no less. We will take care of you here.”

Silently, the girls let their feet be washed and disinfected. They were treated gently at every moment, the doctors’ hands tenderly drying their skin and dabbing things onto their wounds. It was overwhelming to be looked after so considerately after suffering through the forest. Though it wasn’t so long ago they had been comfortable at school, it seemed like a lifetime had passed since the girls had last received such warmth. Small tears leaked uselessly from Cognac’s eyes every few minutes, but she would breathe deeply and try to control herself each time they escaped. Pin wordlessly gave her a clean kerchief to wipe her face and continued with her work.

They were rubbing pastes onto the girls’ wounds when the prince entered the room. He was tall and lean, wearing a fitted tunic with wide sleeves and pearl fastenings.

Trailing behind him was a much bulkier man, with chopped black hair and the same pleated pants as the guards. His skin was tan and he had the same thick eyelashes as an islander. He had on two layers of formal robes, one open and one shut. The inner robe was tied with a swatch and a pearl fastener that matched the prince’s. He carried with him an ornate polearm with a blade that was much different from the other guards’—it was wide and symmetrical, in a shape like a long maple leaf.

“The guards told me about your arrival,” the prince said softly, coming around to stand by Pin. He folded his hands in front of him and looked at the girls with a gentle expression. “I feel compelled to tell you I would’ve appeared more formally had I expected you, but seeing your state, maybe it’s best that I too am dressed down.”

It would be hard to look dressed down next to Cognac and Odessa as they sat at that moment, in their torn and dirty school clothes and with their hair full of nettles. Even their faces were smeared with dirt, except for the space under Cognac’s eyes, which was red and puffy and had been cleaned away with tears. Still, there was a bizarrely casual quality to the prince as he stood before them. He had no formal robes on, nor even a duster. Only the band of pearls over his hair and the dots drawn on his cheeks gave away his position. For someone like him, it might as well be indecent.

Similarly, only part of his hair was pulled back and plainly tied, and most of it laid flatly down his back, sparkling silver through its length and dark at the roots. It was garishly simple next to the fine styles Pin and Roe wore, but his face was made up so exquisitely with powder and ink that he seemed striking regardless. He was simple and complex in the same glance; though he only wore a tunic and stockings, it was all subtly embroidered with braided tassels falling along the sides. Where some areas were plain, others seemed to be adorned painstakingly.

Odessa and Cognac both bobbed their heads down in respect, but neither dared speak.

Lightly placing his hand over Odessa’s knee, he asked, “Dear little sister, how did you find this place? Tell me, what happened to you?”

Behind the prince, the man with the polearm was staring at them.

Odessa looked up at the prince’s delicate face. “The academy was attacked yesterday around midday,” she told him. She was beginning to feel detached from this story, and so the words tumbled out of her easily. “We ran into the forest, and I thought that this place would be the safest. I’ve come often as a messenger, so I know the way very well. But Cognac isn’t so used to running, and our uniforms aren’t meant for travel, so it was much more difficult getting here. We ruined our shoes, and they in turn ruined our feet and ankles.”

The prince and the guard-like man behind him both wore heavy and contemplative expressions as Odessa spoke. The prince looked back at the man, and they stared at each other a moment, but didn’t speak. The guard-man raised an eyebrow, and the prince turned away from him. There was a tenseness between them, but they seemed to share understanding.

Quietly, the prince said, “You’ve had a difficult time, my dear little ones. I’m sorry that we did not adequately protect you. Today you will bathe in hot water and eat alongside me. After you have rested, we can speak about what’s happened.”

He touched Odessa on the knee again, and then reached to do the same to Cognac. Then, he gave a slight bow and left.

A moment passed.

Quietly, Pin said, “It is unusual for the prince to bow to anyone.” She didn’t look up to speak, and wore a flat expression, like she was trying to hide any judgement she might have. “He must truly feel that he has wronged you.”

She gave them directions to keep soap off of their wounds while they bathed and not to scrub or prod the area. Roe would come later to apply their bandages. Effectively dismissed, they were carried to a washroom by two guardsmen. Odessa tried to protest, but they were insistent, and she was too tired to hold so tightly to her pride. The room was huge and steaming, with two impressive baths cut into the floor. One was clouded and littered with bits of flowers; the other was clear. Shiny ceramic tile covered every surface. Most of it was white, but swirling lines of blue cut into the blankness at intervals, giving the rolling impression of waves, or of the clouds of steam that rose and billowed off natural springs. There was a cart of soaps at the head of the room.

The guards waited outside the doorway while the girls washed and soaked. The hot water stung against their sensitive skin, but it was a wonderful relief. They both sighed against the steam.

They were dozing in the clear bath when Roe entered silently, carrying a bundle almost tall enough to block her face. She carefully deposited it on the floor and then swiftly and fluidly spoke with hand signs. She said, “The prince has selected these clothes with your comfort in mind. He hopes you don’t object to his choices.”

It surprised Cognac. She hadn’t thought about the fact that their uniforms were too dirty to change back into—and Odessa’s was ruined completely. She rose from the pool clumsily, wrong footed by the unexpectedness of it all while Odessa calmly padded over to where the bundle sat. It hurt to stand, with all her weight pressing raw spots of her feet, only more tender from the water. Roe quickly shuffled over to help her, but her shoulder and arm only provided so much support. A nasty, humiliated feeling rose up into Cognac’s throat. She didn’t want to call the guards to carry her naked and dripping to a spot meters away. She pulled in a tight breath through her nose and hobbled across the room. Odessa caught her eye as she neared and dipped her gaze apologetically.

While they dried their bodies, both sat on the floor, Roe methodically wrapped them with bandages. They tied themselves into the crisp white underclothes while Roe separated the rest of her bundle by matching parts. There was an orange and red set for Cognac, pink and navy for Odessa. Colors of the sunset. They were visitors here, their presence something brief like the changing colors of the sky. Roe helped Cognac into her skirt first, tying it’s white ribbon in the front and then in a decorative loop at each hip. The excess laid against the pleated length of her skirt on either side. She did the same for Odessa, then helped them into their top clothes. Odessa’s long vest had a cloud pattern, and Cognac’s was thin and twisting birch trees. They were both offered dusters, which Cognac accepted, and Odessa denied. The final piece left in Roe’s bundle was a packet of silk braids, which she wound around the girls’ feet and tied off at the ankles so that the end tassels hung in front. It would be rude for their feet to be unadorned, wounded or not.