That she could speak of assassination so calmly chilled my blood. Not so long ago, I had considered harming her, too, and now the thought was wrapped in shame. I pushed it away.
“But you, boy, have not come here for murder,” she continued. “Murderers bring masks and sharp knives or poison. Or they shoot an arrow from the roof of the rookery. That one nearly worked, only it was windy that day, and a great gust of air turned the arrow from its course. The arrow was the last one. My mother and father took steps after that, and now I am here. You are not like that. You brought me a rope.”
I was still pressed back against the window ledge, unable to move or even to answer her. She spoke like she didn’t care if I answered her or not. She moved about the tower room, fetching an extra dress from a small cupboard I hadn’t noticed and a tiny necklace from the drawer underneath it. These she placed on the bed, and then began to strip the casings off of the pillows.
“I’ve considered the window before, of course,” she said. “But it’s dreadfully high, and none of the blankets they give me are ever any good for shredding.”
She was, I realized as I watched her jam the dress, the necklace, and the quilt into the pillow casing, packing. She wanted me to take her with me. She expected it.
“I’m very sorry that I am so ill-supplied,” she said. “They don’t let me keep even my cup between meals, and I don’t know if I have ever owned a pair of proper shoes. I expect I will be quite a burden to you, but I promise to keep my complaints to a minimum. As you can see, I will not be leaving behind anything of value or use.”
It was true. Even before she had taken the quilt off the bed, the room had been ill-appointed at best. My mind unfroze all at once, and I was nearly overcome with questions.
“Why are you up here?” I asked, as it seemed the best place to start.
“For my protection, of course,” she said. “First, you see, there were several assassination attempts. Then I turned seven, and I started to wander away from my mother’s side. I could get into anything then, and oh, I did.”
“But it’s a prison,” I said, rather obviously. “And you are a princess.”
“A cursed princess, boy,” she corrected—rather primly, it must be said. “That makes all the difference.”
“How do you know I’ll take you with me?” I asked.
“You know who I am, it seems,” she said, “but you have forgotten about the gifts. Most people do, you know, so you mustn’t feel bad about it. Most people are rather focused on the curse, and I think that is understandable, so I will let it slide. But if we are to travel together, you must remember the gifts as well.”
“Discernment of truth,” I said. “Knowledge of worth.” They were the gifts from the unicorn and dragon. She’d had my measure as soon as she laid eyes upon me.
“The very same,” she said. The pillow casing was full now, and she was standing close enough that I could have reached out and touched her.
“Well, boy?” she said. I blinked at her. “The rope.”
“My name is Yashaa,” I said, not wishing to answer to “boy” for the rest of the evening. “There are three others in my party that wait for me in the hills. We have no real plan for our own escape, let alone yours.”
“Why did you come here, then?” she asked. “If you had no real plan.”
“We—” I paused, and then decided that this escapade was likely to get stranger before it was over, and she might as well know everything. “We wanted to know the truth of the curse. To see if there was anything we could do.”
“You’re in luck, Yashaa,” she said. “I was there, after all. And though I do not remember the details with much clarity, I have had them explained to me many, many times. Take me with you, and I will tell you everything you want to know.”
“You will have to leave your slippers,” I said. “They will not grip the stone, and they will be of no use on the ground.”
She toed them off obediently, and set them neatly next to her bed.
“The rope may hurt your hands,” I told her. “I can carry you, or I can carry your bag.”
She looked at her meager belongings. Then she looked at the other pillow casing. She got it quickly, and wrapped it around her hands. There was a lot of extra fabric, and her hands were now attached to each other, but the idea was sound.
“All right,” I said, tying the rope around the leg of the table. “There’s no way to untie the knot from the bottom, so they’ll know how you escaped as soon as they see it.”
“They’ll know anyway,” she pointed out. “The window is the only way in or out, until they break the wall down for my wedding day.”
“Right,” I said, flinching from her terrible pragmatism. I tested the knot. “Let me go first. And hand me the bag.”