She kept touching her temple where the trickle of blood had come from. The wound had vanished completely, as though it had never been in existence. Not even a scar remained to remind her of the injury--although the bite mark on her ankle remained. The scratches from Prince Declan's blades had long faded, however, after a close inspection.

Nadia pulled back her damp hair and glanced in the warped, wavy mirror that reflected back an imperfect reality, trying to make sure that it really was gone. She could find nary a scratch. The thought made her uneasy. How had she spent all her life warned of a curse that prohibited her from ever having her skin cut, only to find that having her skin cut had less-than-deleterious effects on her? None of it made sense. If she ever saw Matron Abigail again... the thought made a lump swell in her throat, tears forming in her eyes.

She had thought herself finished with crying, having parted ways with sobs. Well, she was wrong. And she would never see Matron Abigail again, thanks to stupid Prince Declan.

A knock sounded at the door, two gentle raps that nonetheless made her jump out of her skin. She could not help but compare Rowena to all the other female friends she'd had before: Mari would not knock, merely flounce into the room as a way of announcing her entry. Evie and Siena would make their presence known by standing outside the door and gossipping at louder and louder frequencies until one was forced to open the door for her. Rowena was much different from any of them.

"Come in," Nadia said, before immediately questioning her decision. Rowena might be put off by the strange display of magic that had coursed through her body only moments before, healing wounds and erasing scars. Or, she might be all-too-curious and have questions that wound up treating her like a science experiment or a foreign creature to be gawked and gaped at. Nadia did not want to be abnormal. She wanted to be a human being worthy of dignity and respect.

"I brought you some soup," Rowena said softly, holding her offering in a covered ceramic bowl. "I know you said you felt fine, but I thought you might like something to warm you up."

"Thank you. I truly appreciate it." She dried her eyes discreetly and took the bowl, setting it on the table.

At the sight of the younger girl, dozens of questions swarmed through her mind like flies. Buzzing, irritating, and in a dense cloud. Not that Rowena's presence in itself was irritating, but she reminded Nadia of all the confusion that had surrounded her fall into the water. Why had she nosedived into the ocean? She didn't recall being pushed, but she also did not remember choosing to take a swim in the brisk water. How had Rowena found her--and how had she gotten her out?

As they sat in silence that was only punctuated by the clinking of her spoon against the dish and the quiet sips of soup she took, Nadia felt the tension in the room growing. Finally, she turned toward Rowena with an expectant smile. "Ask your questions, Rowena. I know you have them."

"Why..." she cleared her throat, shaking her head. "That is, do you have magic?"

Steam warming her face from the soup bowl--it was more like a tureen, there was so much of it, but it was at least a very good cream of mushroom--Nadia recited the details of her curse for her. "And, that's how I ended up at the temple in Milona."

Rowena's eyes widened as she passed Nadia a napkin. "And none of the matrons ever told you anything about your curse? They just allowed you to live in... in infamy the whole time that you were there?"

Sighing, Nadia put down her almost-empty bowl and spoon. "Looking back, they might not even have known anything about my curse. There were times when I felt fortunate that they took me in at all."

Rowena frowned. "That's unfair! It isn't your fault that you were cursed."

Nadia smiled at the other girl's righteous indignation. "No, but it is something I shall have to live with for the rest of my life."

She crossed her legs, sitting on the bed as she dried her hair with a towel, having changed into a borrowed dress from Rowena. It was a too-loose and too-short shift, but better than lounging around in wet clothes for the night and catching hypothermia.

Still, she couldn't relax completely. "What really happened when I fell in, Rowena? Who pulled me out of the ocean?"

Eyes downcast, Rowena fiddled with her thumbs in her lap. "Well... I said it was a sailor. But the truth is, it was the captain. I don't know what he was doing out on the upper decks so late at night. Shouldn't he have been steering the ship? He told me not to inform anyone of his presence there so I listened, but you can keep a secret, can't you?"

Nadia nodded, trying to infuse her tone with warmth and comfort. "Of course I can. I won't tell anyone."

Rowena continued. "But don't you find it strange that he would be out on the upper decks at that time? What was he doing there? What if he was the one who ushed you in? But then what reason would he have for doing so? None of this... none of it makes any sense."

"I appreciate your telling me, Rowena, but it's quite alright for you not to have the answers. This isn't your problem, it's mine. And I'm quite capable of solving it by myself." Even though she had no idea how she had gotten from the deck to the ocean. Even though she was on a ship with numerous men and few women, with only a handful of whom she could trust, whose loyalties were completely unknown to her. Still, she tried to laugh it off as a harmless prank. "I've been alone for much of my life. I think a few more years won't hurt me."

This was her own life, not some sort of murder mystery play performed by a travelling theatre troupe.

"I know that, but we are friends now, aren't we? You shouldn't need to resolve this matter by yourself," Rowena said. "Even Prince Declan likes you, and the man dislikes everyone he encounters."

"The man does not like me," she said with a scoff. "He handcuffed me when I tried to run away from him on the journey here."

Rowena's eyes lit up. "Why haven't you told me that story yet?"

As a distraction from the reason for her wet hair and chilled-to-the-bone state, Nadia launched into the story with exaggerations and broad hand gestures, until both of them were falling over on the bed, collapsed with laughter.