I woke to the smell of a wood fire. Conifer branches - the sizzle and snap of the pitch were unmistakable to my honed senses. Pain wracked my body. I knew then, it must still be night. I couldn't have been unconscious for long. Some time, however, had clearly passed.
I lay in the shelter of a cave, behind the face of the waterfall, and I saw a tunnel that twisted farther into the mountainside and downward, away from the cascade, which must have been the path we'd taken.
The tiny fire leapt and danced a few feet from me, and my clothes were drying, slowly, on my body. She sat on the other side of the fire, gazing at me through the tongues of yellow flame.
"I thought you might be dead," she said. Her voice was like honey with bits of the comb still caught in its depths; smooth with unaccustomed coarseness tripping it up now and again. "I am glad you're not."
"But not so glad that you are not."
She blinked and averted her eyes. "Not so glad of that, no."
"Why?"
Lowering her head, she let her small shoulders slump forward. Her dress was faded brown and plain, its neckline rounded, its fabric worn. "My entire family is gone," she whispered. "I see no reason not to join them. There's nothing for me here."
I nodded. "I see."
Her dark eyes narrowed. "You aren't going to argue with me? Tell me how much I have to live for, how much lies ahead for a girl of seventeen, the way all the others have done?"
"Why would I argue against seeking the solace of death when I was up there tonight planning to seek it out for myself?"
She blinked, clearly stunned by the revelation. "But you - you're the prince."
"And I know pain. And I bleed, just as you do. No, I'll not argue with you, pretty one. I cannot even tell you why I took it upon myself to interfere with your plans. Except..."
"Except?" she asked.
I shrugged. "Except that I was so struck by your beauty, I couldn't help myself. It was pure selfishness on my part. For one brief instant, when I looked at you on that precipice, I thought I glimpsed -" I drew a breath and plunged on. For what difference did it make now, whether I spoke honestly or falsely for the sake of manners or pride? "I thought I glimpsed a reason to live for perhaps one more night."
"That reason being - to save me?"
"No," I said quickly. "Not to save you. To...know you. To speak to you. To share my pain with someone who might understand it." I lowered my head. "I told you. Entirely selfish. I'm sorry if I have prolonged your suffering by my thoughtless intrusion."
She studied me for a long moment, and finally lowered her eyes and whispered, "I can die as easily tomorrow as tonight, I suppose. Tell me about your pain."
I stared back at her. The flames sizzled and popped. And I heard myself whisper, "Perhaps I will. But there is this first. What I tell you here, in this cave has never been told to another soul. It can never leave this place."
She shrugged. "I don't intend to ever leave this place, my prince. I will take your secrets to my grave."