The water from the tap was only lukewarm, but at that moment I was grateful even for that. I scrubbed myself for at least fifteen minutes, determined to wash every trace of dirt off my skin. Only then did I notice the bruises — dozens of them, blooming in purple and blue along my legs and arms. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd truly felt pain; I'd always been used to comfort.
As I washed my hair, thoughts of home filled my mind. I still couldn't believe everything that had happened in the past few days. It all felt like a terrible dream — something unreal. That my father was gone, that I had been forced to flee the estate, and that now, in some foreign castle, they wanted to turn me into a servant girl.
"Time's up! Out!" a woman banged on the door.
"Just a moment!" I called back, wrapping a dry sheet around myself before stepping onto the cold stone floor and quickly dressing in the clean clothes they had given me.
