The coarse blanket of the forest’s undergrowth tore at her bandages, but Jesse knew she would rather have the small barrier between it and her sore feet. She had endured worse than this, far worse, she reminded herself. A pitiful mantra, but it kept her situation in perspective, it kept her moving.
She was a fighter, that had always been her problem. Her father had said so countless times as he snapped his belt, or brought down his newest flogger. If only she would submit and be done with her madness, then she could become a daughter he was proud of, the heir he had wanted. She could never make him understand it wasn’t insanity. He just didn’t see the world the same way she did. No one did.
She had spent years locked within her bedroom, her chamber pot emptied twice daily. In that time,
