Alice woke slowly. The first things she noticed were aches and pains and confusion, and she came to consciousness with a splitting headache and blurry memories. She remembered nothing but vague impressions that felt like dreams and was convinced she was waking up in her apartment, alone and in the dark. A heaviness settled on her heart, a heaviness made up of familiar loneliness and exhaustion. She needed to get up soon – if her alarm hadn’t gone off yet, it was possible she had missed it. Alice couldn’t afford to be late for work. She opened her eyes, wincing in anticipation of reality, only to find herself in a cozy, well-lit room. The cottage. She pulled the blanket closer around her and sighed, relieved down to her bones.

She let herself wake up slowly, enjoying the feeling of warmth and safety. As relieved and safe as she felt, though, the lingering damage from the attack was impossible to ignore. Her muscles ached from shivering for hours and hours the night before. Worse, she was uneasy, as though the mystery figure who had attacked her was somehow watching her from somewhere, waiting to catch her. She thought she might feel this way for a long time.

Eventually, she gathered enough strength to raise her head and scan the room. It was mid-morning, birds singing cheerily from outside. There was a cold mug of tea set next to the armchair, and faintly glowing charcoals from a burned-out fire in the fireplace. The most striking thing was the pile of blankets and bright, pale blond hair heaped on the floor across from Alice’s feet. The princess.

Why is she sleeping on the floor? No matter how she thought of it, she wasn’t sure. There was no way she had just decided to sleep there because she was lonely, was there? Alice had given her the bedroom.

Stumped, Alice stood up slowly, trying to keep quiet. She was incredibly thirsty and picked up the mug, moving to sit at the table to gulp it down. So the princess had to save me. God…

This was definitely not how Alice had hoped things would go. Instead of supporting the main character in her quest to save the world, she had almost gotten her killed. Her brilliant plan to go into town for the princess, to help provide for her when she was still scared to leave the cottage, had just forced the princess into jumping straight into danger.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. I need to remember that I don’t know everything just because I know the book. This world is bigger than that.

Caught up in self-recrimination, she didn’t notice the princess get up until she sat down at the table across from Alice. Alice jumped at the sound of the chair and almost dropped her mug.

A long pause, awkward and stiff, before both of them tried to speak at the same time.

“Good morn-”

“I’m sor-”

They both cut off, and Alice was sure her cheeks were visibly flushed with embarrassment. She sipped at her tea to try and regain some composure only to find it empty. Her cheeks flamed hotter.

“How are you feeling?” asked the princess finally, when Alice remained silent for a moment too long.

“I’m alright. Sore. But not cold. I mean, I’m fine. Thank you.” The words came out stilted and awkward. “Thank you for – for finding me and – for helping, I mean, healing, umm” and here she cut off. Skill with water magic and the ability to heal was not that common, and everyone knew Princess Aurum had those abilities. Should she pretend not to have known what was happening? But that wouldn’t make any sense. And anyway, she was already pretending not to recognize the princess’s name, so really, what use was more deception about this?

But by the time she had come to this conclusion, the princess had already started to answer. “I’m glad I found you. And it wasn’t a hard healing, although you did seem to get a bit – I mean, you don’t seem to have much of a tolerance for magic, do you? Are you feeling more… normal now?”

It all came rushing back; the sparkly feeling and the giggling and the nonsense about magic burritos. If possible, Alice’s face blushed even redder. She couldn’t remember very clearly – had she said anything she shouldn’t?

“I’m so sorry. I’m just – I live here alone and I – I’m not used to magic. I don’t have any resistance and I must’ve been a bit overwhelmed. I didn’t say anything too weird, I hope? I mean – ” And here she cut off again, because she was pretty sure everything she had said was more than just a little weird.

“Uhhh, well, don’t worry. I didn’t really pay any attention – I mean, I just needed to heal you, and everyone, I mean, some people just struggle a bit with magic exposure. It’s not that odd. And you didn’t say anything rude or, or really weird. Well. Nevermind.” The princess seemed to give up on lying to make Alice feel better and changed the subject instead. “So, you don’t feel tipsy anymore? And you aren’t cold?”

“No. I mean, yes, I feel better.” Alice swallowed her embarrassment. “Thank you. Thank you for coming to find me.” A thought occurred to her. “How did you find me?”

The princess shrugged. “It wasn’t hard to track which way you went. And I knew where the main road was.” She hesitated. “The house was… unhappy. It - I think it asked me to find you.” The princess was watching Alice intently as she said this. Nervous, Alice looked at the bookshelf. Maybe this was a good thing? The princess could learn about the magic of the house and house spirits and use her power to spread the knowledge. In the book, that hadn’t happened – the princess had known the house was special, but there was no mention of the house pushing her to learn about why it was so special.

Stumbling a bit, joints stiff and muscles sore, Alice went to grab the small booklet, only to find it missing as she rummaged through the shelves. Ah. The cottage seemed to have hidden it. She sighed and shook her head. The princess is your person! You shouldn’t hide from her like this. She already knows you are special.

The dead coals flared back to life, indignant. “Wow,” muttered Alice, impressed and annoyed by the cottage's over-the-top display of defiance. “Fine then.” She turned back to the table to find the princess staring at the fireplace, mouth open.

“So it talks to you too?” She sounded excited. “Do you know why?”

Alice opened her mouth to answer but was cut off by the window shutters slamming. “Fine! I mean, it’s a, uhh, a fine house. Its… special.”

Rightfully, the princess scoffed. “Sure. Special.” She got up and started gathering some firewood to place on the now crackling, still angry-looking fire. Alice was honestly impressed – in the novel, it took the princess much longer to get used to the idea and practice of chores, and here she was, getting things ready to make breakfast.

Legs trembling a bit, Alice went back to sit at the table. “I’m sorry,” she said, meaning she was sorry about the danger, about the secrets. But since she couldn’t say that without giving everything away, she kept going. “I don’t like to make a guest do chores.”

The princess scoffed again. “You saved me first. And I – I wanted to ask if I could impose on you. More, that is. I don’t really have anywhere to go.” As she spoke, she sounded regal and commanding one second and tentative the next, clearly unused to asking for favors, but by the time she looked back at Alice, Alice was already nodding vigorously.

“You can stay! You can – it's your home now too.” Now that was a weird thing to say, and Alice kicked herself internally. “You can stay. And that’s what homes are for, after all, for people, so if you need to stay then you should. Since you need one.” God help me.

The cottage was quiet. Alice silently thanked it for not throwing a tantrum; it seemed that while it had some sort of grudge against the princess, it was not rejecting her entirely. When the pause dragged on too long, Alice mustered up the courage to look at the princess, who was staring at her.  Alice expected to see something like revulsion on the princess's face at her odd invitation, but instead of looking disturbed or creeped out or otherwise put off, the princess looked stricken. Almost… guilty. But that couldn’t be right. Alice had never been all that good at reading people, anyway, so she shrugged off the unease the princess's expression caused her and focused on her own problems. Easy to do, since she was embarrassed about pretty much everything that had happened since she woke up and she really couldn’t focus on much else. The silence lingered, and after beating herself up about her own mistakes for a while longer, Alice realized that the princess probably could use some help.

“I’ll grab the kettle. We don’t need to have just porridge today! I got fruit and…” As Alice chattered on – bizarrely talkative for a woman who usually had trouble stringing a sentence together, but bizarre circumstances earned bizarre outcomes – she did not see the princess take a shuddering breath and wipe something that might have been a tear from her face.