• Lying here, alone in the dark, I can still hear her voice. The things she said plague me, even now. I sigh and roll onto my side, trying to suppress memories that keep threatening to surface.

    Even now, as I close my eyes, I can still see her eyes, brimming with tears. Her jaw, tense with the effort of keeping her voice steady. The way her eyes darted like the tiny birds flitting from branch to branch just outside the window behind her.
    She takes my hands, and opens her mouth as if to speak, but all the escapes is a small wail. Her face, so beautiful even in pain, so expressive, pleading with me.
    I shake my head. It would be folly, I tell her. But she won't listen. Her eyes now only hold contempt, and she releases my hands. She asks once more. I shake my head.
    She walked away from me, as calm as the sea is before a storm. I watched her go, not realizing it would be the last time I saw her.

    I sit up, and reach for the mug of cool water beside my bed.

    If I had known it would be the last time I would ever see her, would I still have done the same? Or would I have fled with her? If I had, I would be with her now. We would be laughing about all the foolish things we did in our childhood. All the trouble we got into.

    She smiled at me from under the table cloth, beckoning me to join her with a silent hand. I suppress a giggle, and scoot under the table next to her. Just in time, too. The great door opens, and all I can see is a pair of legs, clothed in a rich crimson fabric. They were followed by another pair of legs, and a long skirt. The legs surrounded the table; they never bothered to search for errant children underneath it.
    Later, when they were gone, we scooted out from under the table. My skirts were filthy, and hers were too, but we laughed and hurried back to our rooms, before Mother would find us missing from our lessons.

    The least of our worries, I mused as I sipped the cool water. I stood and brushed my long dark hair, so like hers, out of my face. What time was it? It was impossible to tell here, in the dark.

    I searched all over the manor for her, but I found not trace of her. Her room was just as she had left it the previous morning. I couldn't help but wonder if she had really fled as she intended to. Would it really have been that hard to join her? I was sure it would have been preferable to this dark cell.

    My skirts rustled as I paced the length of my small room. My trial is today. If I was found guilty, I could face a fate worse then death.
    How could I have let myself get into this mess? She had always warned me not to make enemies, but here I am, being tried for a crime I did not commit.
    Why should I want to kill him? He was always kind, as a proper husband should be. He never mistreated me, contrary to the rumors said of him. But now he is dead, and his sister thinks I did it.
    For all I know, she killed him herself. But if I try to tell the court that, who will they believe? Me, or their queen?
    I pounded my fist on the wall in frustration.

    Even though it lacked windows, the cell has every other amenity I could wish for. Plushly upholstered furniture, a miniature library, and it's own privy. Of course, I deserve it. Even though I have been tried and found guilty of murder, I am still high born, with relatives willing to ransom me out of here.
    I walk into the library, in search of something to pass the time with. It is all I have to amuse myself with, except for sewing, which I am absolutely horrible at.
    I browse the shelves, looking for something I haven't yet read. In the whole year I have been here, there's not much I haven't read.
    But a book bound in plain unadorned leather catches my eye. I pull it off of the shelf.
    There is no title inscribed on the cover, nor are there words on the first five pages. But on the sixth page, I find something that can save my life.
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