What is taking Penelope so long? What if Queen Darya found out that she told me to flee? What if she killed Penelope for telling me? I cannot control my frantic thoughts. To busy my mind, I button up my winter coat Rasha made me the previous year. The forest green velvet is trimmed with silver thread. Reminiscing, I finger the soft hood and almost completely forget what is happening. The slowly creaking door interrupts and brings me back to the present. My heart beats faster with anxiety. The familiar face of Penelope peeks around the corner and whispers, “Lia, leave now! Everyone is asleep. You must escape while you have the optimum opportunity!” I take my bags without hesitation and quickly exit the room. Penelope follows with hurried footsteps and throws her neck around at every corner.

“Leave through the kitchen door. It will be faster and safer.” We head to the kitchen, which is as empty as before. We reach the door we once left to see the new world of the market. So much has happen since then, it is hard to believe we saw a glimpse of the outside world two months ago. We pause in frightened silence at the door.

“Promise me you will be safe.”

“I promise I will be safe and I promise I will return soon to see you again.” My body automatically hugs Penelope. She hugs back and strokes tears into my hair, but then quickly pulls back.

“You must leave before everyone wakes up.” We hold hands for the last time and she puts a small piece of parchment in my hand. She pulls me so her lips are in my ear. “Open it when it is safe,” she whispers. I nod and wipe the tears away. I open the door and moonlight floods the kitchen. I look behind me to say good-bye to Penelope once more, but she is gone. I tuck her note with the rest of my possessions. I step out of the door and quietly pull the door closed. At once, the frigid air beleaguers my lungs and brushes my face with frost, forcing me to pull my hood up.

My feet move swiftly towards the bridge. The moon shimmers off the water, guiding me to my freedom. Silhouettes of rolling hills frame the vacant market. To the right of the market are quaint houses with snow perched on the roofs contain sleeping inhabitants. I pause to see my breath before me and then I spot Asta’s from the top of the hill; it is the farthest and smallest house in the little village. I briskly move on the path to walk through the village. Once I set foot on the uneven cobblestones laden with powdery snow, I creep quietly in the shadows. I look around the settled houses and little stores. To my right is a butcher shop followed by ten tall and narrow homes. To my left is the same, but a fabric shop is in the middle of the ten. After the tenth house, the cobblestone breaks and goes in four directions; I continue forward. More tall and narrow homes loom above me. All the windows are shut from the frigid air and snow. My nose grows more numb and I can see my breath more with each step towards Asta’s home.

At last, my frightened feet pause at the gate of Asta’s home. I try to push the gate open, but it does not move. I try pulling it but with little success. I move my fingers blindly to feel for a latch. I move my hand from the left side to the right and find a dirt-covered latch. I pull it off and pull the gate open. The garden laid before the house is covered with snow. Places where summer’s harvest are now barren with frozen earth. I follow the stone path in between the sections of the garden to the door. Clouds are now blocking moonlight. I knock softly on the door, hoping Asta hears it. Suddenly, I notice the cold and start shivering. I knock again, but a little louder; my hands then fall to my sides. I try to make my hands go to my mouth to warm up, but I am too cold to move. I hear muffled footsteps coming closer. I become frightened once more. What if it is not Asta who is coming to the door? What if who ever opens the door turns me in? What will happen to me then? I do not want Queen Darya to kill me! I hear the door open and a shadow about the same height as me whispers. “Who is there?”

“It is Lia from the palace. Please let me come inside and I will explain everything.”

“Of course, Lia! Hurry, come inside, it is warmer in here. Let me fetch a candle so we can see where we are going. Just wait right here.” The shadow pulls me in and closes the door, forcing the cold air out. The shadow leaves and I can hear it rummaging for a candle and a match. I hear the match strike and then I see a growing light not too far away. The shadow changes into the warm face of Asta. She motions me to come and sit. I move my legs, as much as they are sore, to the place she is beckoning me to go. The moment I reach her, my legs give way and I collapse onto the small couch. Asta places the candle on a table in front of her. She places a blanket on my lap.

“Lia, sit down and wrap this blanket around you. Let me make you some warm tea. Oh my, your lips are blue. Just rest a bit.” She scurries into another room and I dive into the thick blanket. I start to drift off to sleep, but then Asta comes back and hands me a piping hot cup. She takes a seat on a stool across from me.

“Drink some tea first and then you can explain to me what is going on.” I press the steamy cup to my chapped lips and tip it up. Hot liquid fills my mouth and I swallow. It goes down and makes my whole body warm.

“Thank you so much, Asta.”

“I told you I would be here for you anytime.”

“I need your help to leave for the ports tomorrow.”

“Is everything alright?”

“No, Queen Darya wants to kill me. She told Penelope that she was going to kill me tomorrow. Penelope told me that I needed to come here and seek your help. Please help me.”

“Of course I will help you. Queen Darya will not know that you are gone until morning. For now, get some rest because the ports are at least a day’s journey away. I will tell my family that I will be going with you in the morning. Good night, Lia.”

“Thank you so much, Asta.” Asta blows out the candle and leaves me on the couch. I take one last sip of the tea and then place it next to the candle. I close my eyes and drift off to a dream in a warm and safe cocoon.

Queen Darya is sitting at her desk working hard. A healthier Rasha enters the room and carries a tray of warm tea and a small cake. She places it next to Queen Darya’s stack of parchment and her body stays. Her small voice starts. “Queen Darya,” she is interrupted by a cough, but then continues. “Queen Darya.” Queen Darya looks up from her work.

“Yes, Rasha.”

“My daughter, Penelope is getting married to the gardener, Yuri. The wedding will be in three days.”

“Why are you telling me this Rasha? You know your daughter may marrying whom ever she wishes. Was that not part of our agreement?”

“Yes, Queen Darya. I want to make a deal with you though.”

Queen Darya places her quill down and focuses on Rasha. “What kind of a deal?”

Rasha paces in front of Queen Darya’s desk. Queen Darya breaks a small piece of the cake off and pushes it between her ruby red lips. She lets it melt in her mouth while she sips the tea. “I want you to stay away from the wedding.”

Queen Darya puts the cup of tea back on the tray. “Rasha, are you forgetting our agreement completely?”

Rasha coughs, but answers. “No, Queen Darya, but…”

“Rasha, our agreement was that Penelope could marry anybody she wanted as long as I attended the wedding. In return, you could take care of Rosalia. I still have no why you would want to care for that filthy girl.”

Rasha suddenly has more power in her voice and defends her actions. “Queen Darya, you forced me to kill my best friend and leave her daughter motherless! The least I could do is look after Rosalia as if she was my own.”

Queen Darya stands up and knocks over her cup of tea. The escaped tea fills nearby parchment, but she does not even notice. “Rasha, do not ever raise your voice to me again!”

Rasha coughs and returns to her shyness. “I am sorry, Queen Darya. I would like to make an alteration in our agreement.”

“What do you want?”

“In exchange for not coming to Penelope’s wedding, Penelope will take my place once I die.”

Queen Darya looks down at her desk and sits down, deep in thought. “There needs to be something else.”

Rasha coughs once more. “Once I die, you can kill Rosalia.”

Queen Darya’s eyes grow larger. “Rasha, you have been protecting Rosalia from me her whole life. Why would you let me kill her?”

“I will be dead and I will not be able to see any more of your destruction.” Rasha pauses and adds, “Just remember that it was not Rosalia who slept with King Rian. She is not at fault for her mother’s mistake.” She turns away and leaves Queen Darya to collect the spilt tea.

“Lia, wake up before my family does. We need to prepare to leave.” Asta is shaking my body and I quickly wake. “We need to eat breakfast and make a lunch if we want to reach the ports by tonight.” I break free from my cocoon and follow Asta to the kitchen. I look around her house in dawn’s light; it makes the house much different from last night’s encounters. The floor is smooth stone and the walls are made of sun-dried bricks. The room where the couch was moves into a hallway with three doors at the end. The small couch I slept on is part of a circle of stools and wooden chairs. I count five seats. The kitchen is open and big. In the middle is a wooden table with a bench on each side. A tall wooden chair is at one end, but the other end is empty. I look at Asta. She is wearing a dark blue working dress and a purple apron. Her hair is up in a bun. Her feet are bare and her wrists adorned with bangles. She pulls two plates out of a cabinet and puts a cooked egg on each one, followed by a steaming biscuit.

“I hope this is enough. I did not have time to make anything else. My family will be awake soon for morning chores, so let me do the talking. Eat quickly and have your things ready.” I take my plate from her and nod. She sits down on the bench closest to the garden and shovels her breakfast into her mouth. I sit on the bench opposite of her and scoop the egg into my mouth. For ten minutes, there is no sound other than the clinking of forks on plates and teeth. Then, a little girl starts wondering to the kitchen from the door on the left of the hallway. The girl is about six years old with soft blonde hair tucked away in two braids. She is rubbing the sleepiness out of her eyes as she moves closer to the kitchen. Asta, noticing me looking at something behind her, turns to see who is now awake. She swallows her chewed biscuit and calls out, “Celeste, your breakfast is not ready yet. Go get dressed and wait for Father.” Celeste turns around and goes back into the door on the left.

“That should buy us some more time. Are you finished?” I nod and let her take my plate. I have not eaten any meal this fast before. My jaw is sore from chewing so much so quickly. Asta starts preparing our lunches. “Do you care for oranges?”

“Oranges are fine. I will eat anything you put in for my lunch.” Her little body moves swiftly making double lunches. I return to the couch to retrieve my bags. I sit down on the couch and then hear a door from the hall open. I wait to see who it could be. I quickly glance at Asta and see that she is trying to see who it is. She calls out again, “Zarif, get dressed for your chores. I need you to do mine today as well.”

A tall, strong built body emerges from the hall. His dirty blonde hair is short. He looks a couple of years older than Asta. His deep voice rings through the room. “Let me eat some breakfast if I am doing your chores, Asta.” He looks over to the couch, spots me, and then looks back at Asta. I freeze. “Who is she? Does Father know that she is here?”

“This is my friend, Lia. I need to travel with her to the ports today. Let me explain this to Father, okay Zarif.” Now Asta is packaging out lunches. Zarif moves to the kitchen in his tattered robe. His skin is tan, like Asta’s, from working in the sun. He starts to make eggs, just like Asta made us for breakfast. Asta brings two sacks to me and then speaks softly so Zarif does not hear.

“Let me talk to my father in private. As soon as he meets you, he will let us depart. Make sure you are ready to leave at a moment’s notice.” I nod and put our lunches in the sack with my clothes. Asta leaves for one of the doors in the hallway and Zarif finishes making his eggs. I hold my hands tightly on my lap, waiting for Asta to return. The tall tower of Zarif’s body appears over my shoulder. I look up and see that he is chewing on half of a biscuit. He swallows hard and then speaks slowly and deeply. “So, you are Asta’s friend, right?” I nod. “My name is Zarif. What is yours?”

My voice is timid and small. “Lia.”

“Nice name. Where are you from? I have never seen you in the village or the market.”

Not wanting to give away too many details about myself, I try to be very vague. “The little village by the palace. Not very many people live over there.”

“If you do not mind my asking, why are you leaving for the ports? I mean it is very difficult to get to any place by water.”

“I am running away from…my stepmother. She used to beat me and wants to kill me now. She is terrified of water, so she will not chase me herself.”

“I see. Well, Godspeed, Lia. You will need it. Looks like Asta is back from talking with our father. Nice meeting you, Lia.” Zarif walks back to clean his place in the kitchen and Asta comes into view holding the hand of Celeste. Celeste is holding on to Asta’s hand tightly with one hand and the other hand is curled into a fist with her thumb stuck in her mouth.

“Zarif, please come here. I need to speak to all three of you.” A tall, strong built man emerges from the hallway. He is wearing dirty slacks and a clean buttoned up shirt. His gray hair is kept short, like Zarif’s. Zarif is a younger version of the man, presumably his father. All three gather around Asta in the middle of the room where I am sitting.

Asta looks around and talks softly. “If anybody comes here and asks about Lia, do not tell them that she was here. Do not tell any of your friends that she was here. It is very important for the lives of both of us that you keep quiet. With that being said, I will probably have to set sail with Lia because the people looking for her know who I am. I will write to you as soon as it is safe. Do not worry, Celeste. We will be well. We will come back when the time is right. Now give me a hug before we go.” Asta bends down on her knee and gives Celeste a big hug and a gentle kiss on her cheek. Celeste returns the hug, but is silently crying because she will miss her sister. Asta stands back up and hugs Zarif. Zarif hugs her back and kisses her on the cheek. Asta turns to her father to give him a hug, but he grabs her and lifts her off her feet. He kisses her hard on her cheek and sets her back on her feet.