The Princess And The Enemy
Chapter 3
Early Morning- Yara’s cottage.
Morning light filters through the window slats. Birds chirp softly.
Elizabeth stirs awake, tangled in a thin blanket.
Elizabeth
*groaning softly, blinking at the ceiling*
Where…?
She sits up slowly, hair disheveled, dress stained with mud from days of travel and tears. She looks around—no sign of Yara. Just the gentle crackle of last night’s fire, now barely embers.
Elizabeth
*to herself*
She left....
She stumbles out of the bed, feet cold on the wooden floor. On the kitchen table: a simple breakfast—warm bread, a boiled egg, a small tin of butter.
Next to it, a bundle of neatly folded clothes: a long, simple dress, worn but clean.
Elizabeth
*softly, touched*
She made breakfast…?
A scrap of parchment sits beside the plate. Scrawled in rough, slanted writing: “Wash. Eat. Don’t burn the place down.”
Elizabeth
*laughs under her breath*
Not exactly royal etiquette.
She lifts the dress, running her fingers over the fabric, almost like it’s something sacred. Her eyes burn—but she doesn’t cry. Not this time.
Elizabeth
Thank you.. Yara..
She goes outside by the well, scrubbing the dried mud from her arms, the water shockingly cold.
She changes into the clean dress, the forest-scented fabric brushing against her skin. She glances toward the trees, wondering where Yara has gone, then back at the cottage—her new shelter.
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