I take my time washing myself.
For the first time in my life, I relieve myself behind a tree.
I spend a few minutes drinking in the view, too—standing on the shore and watching my breath plume in front of my face as the sun slowly rises above the loch.
Back in the castle at the King’s City, I only ever saw the sunrise through my murky bolted window. The servants would already be bustling through the courtyard below, and the ladies-in-waiting would be fussing around me.
I can’t remember a time when I have been in the presence of such vast, unending silence.
I breathe in. Then out.
Small waves lap the pebbles by my feet.
By the time I make my way back up the rocks, at least fifteen minutes must have passed, and I’m shivering.
The bottom of my nightdress is sodden, and strands of my h
