The True Tale of Thousandfurs

Four

The days passed, each similar to the last, so much so Katerina struggled to remember the day or even which month it was. She had left her fathers castle during the tail end of summer so they would be entering fall, if they hadn't already.

She hadn't been outside in so long.

All she knew were the cold stone walls of the kitchen, and the orange glow of the fireplace dancing off of them. She had grown quiet, more so than she was before. She needed to hide her identity yes but that task was made easier for her when the other servants were disgusted by her.

The scared stories with each other at night in their quarters, far enough away she couldn't hear them, though they wouldn't care if she did. Their thoughts of her were well known and shown through their actions.

Several rumors of her past and who she was. Her favorite being that she was a rabid dog cursed by a witch. This one made her laugh. That fate may have been better than her own. It was better to accept it and move on because there was nothing she could do to dispel the rumors.

She sat alone most days when she wasn't instructed to do the most difficult task the chef could find for her. She missed being able to sit in the garden by her mother's grave but she still spoke to her on a daily hoping her spirit was near and watching over her.

She only had one other meeting with the king since that night, but she was grateful. He had kept his word to not return her and even though life in the kitchen was less than desirable it was better than being back in her father's filthy hands. She made him promise he would not step in to help her and let her remain as a servant. Reluctantly he agreed.

Soon she had been living in the palace for a month and today was the first day she was allowed beyond the kitchen walls. Of course, there were select times she was granted permission to wander the halls on a delegated task but she hadn't been outside since her capture.

She was ordered to fetch a bucket of water from the well that sat at the back of the kitchen, near the king's private fishing pond. She took the opportunity to enjoy the grey sunlight through the threat of rain, forgetting her obligations for a moment.

She gathered the water in the pail but struggled to carry it back as it weighed about as much as her. When she reached the door she set the bucket down to catch her breath and to prop the door open enough for her to get through. Instead, it came crashing open and knocked the bucket over spilling the water into the grass, leaving her no other choice but to make the difficult journey again.

"What are you doing?" A man snarled as she picked up the bucket. Some of the water had gotten onto his boots, which were not the shoes of any of her fellow servants and much too fine for the bulky guards.

He was royalty.

The Prince.

She shook, not sure how to answer him but decided it safe to bow her head and gave him a small curtesy that was hidden by her cloak.

"Ah, the mutt we found in the woods." He crossed his arms examining her, "I hear tale that my father has to keep you separated from the others for fear you'll eat them in their sleep." He laughed, his dimples appearing, which she hadn't noticed before. They infuriated her because they made him far more attractive than his behavior should allow him to be.

Still, though, she didn't respond, not wanting to expose her identity with her proper English and her accent. She was Thousandfurs, an uneducated rouge found in the forest.

"Oh, do tell me if it's true!" He teased and prodded, kicking the bucket away from her when she tried to grab it.

She glared up at him and wanted to reprimand him for his utter disrespect to her station, but bit her tongue and burrowed her emotions deep inside where they now belonged.

Her old life didn't matter anymore.

She ignored his persistence and followed the pail down to the edge of the pond where it had landed and picked it up, now caked in mud. She sighed and returned to the well to clean it and get fresh water.

"What is your name then, mutt?" Prince Alexander asked, strolling behind her leisurely, "I know you speak. Chef tells us of your backtalk every day."

That was simply not true but she had no way to argue it and did not want to get into more trouble so instead, she again stayed silent.

"Answer me!" He shouted, grabbing her arm and pulling it out from under her cloak. Her hand which once had been soft and pale now housed blisters and burns, soot and dirt, from her unending chores.

"Thousandfurs." She managed.

"You lie." He again threw the bucket on the ground after she had just managed to get it clean, "Your real name! Not the one my mother gave you!"

"I have no other name."

"I will stand out here in the dark and in the rain until you give me an answer!" He drew closer making her back up into the stone base of the well.

"I am no one." She whispered. She was utterly petrified and gripped the well with all her strength, managing to open a painful blister on her palm.

"I could have them cut out your tongue for lying." He hissed, "not that you have much use for it anyway." His nose was a mere inch away from hers and she had to keep her eyes anywhere but on him.

He was going to push her in and she would drown. She knew it. She would sink to the bottom of the well and no one would ever find her.

Was that so bad?

She closed her eyes and began to pray. To the lord. To her mother. To any angel that may listen.

"Alexander, come inside or your mother will have both of our heads if you catch a cold!" The King's booming voice could be heard on the other side of the path at the door.

Katerina could not stop the relieved sigh she released the moment he took a step back, giving her enough room to move away. She lifted up her bloody hand and inspected it, hissing at the burning sting as she tried to close her hand into a fist.

The prince grabbed her wrist in a split second and tugged her closer. He gave her a light squeeze but when she didn't respond he met her eyes, "open your hand." He commanded in an empty tone.

Slowly she uncurled her fingers wincing at the pain and the exposed flesh from the freshly burst blister and other burns that adorned her pale skin. His own perfect nail traced over these marks gently, inspecting them before releasing her hand and watching her hide it inside of her cloak.

He looked her up and down his jaw set squarely, "You are hiding something. You are not what they say you are."

Her heart pounded rapidly, her crystal blue eyes wide. Did he know? How could he know who she truly was? She had been so careful!

"Finish your chores mutt and get by the fire before you grow ill." He ordered turning away, but stopping a ways down the path and picking up the bucket that he had thrown. He looked back at her, seeing she hadn't moved and was only watching him make sure he left.

He sighed and though the path caked his boots in mud, he trudged back up the small hill to her, "I believe you dropped this."

"Alexander!" And despite his title, the prince still answered to his father, the king. With a sly smirk, he spun around and jogged back into the palace, leaving Katerina alone with an empty and muddy bucket.

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