No, not all the things Vadde washed every day were done well, but they were done.

Each time Vadde could escape to see what Wyrn’d accomplished for the day, she was pleased. She became an expert of doing the wash ‘well enough’ even in the morning and would join him until lunch. Those days were fun but something unexpected happened—he started spending lunch alone. It wasn’t that she’d intended for that, but he simply vanished, and she couldn’t find him anywhere.

So one evening when they took the laundry down for the day and Wyrn’s mother boasted about how Vadde’s wash was always near perfect, Shaza and the other wives weren’t the only ones surprised.

Shaza’s scowl was a common thing these days. Vadde was almost starting to like it.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Vadde said, still scanning the houses for any sign of Wyrn. No matter, she’d see him for dinner at least.

He was late arriving, but Vadde didn’t feel right starting before he came. Everyone else wasn’t as dedicated.

Wyrn looked a wreck once he sat down beside her. “Sorry, Jeo lasted a few days longer than expected.”

Today, Vadde only smiled at the joke. She was happy to see him. He was still sweaty, which was unlike him for supper. In truth, it wasn’t uncommon for the men to be unkempt, but it certainly was for Wyrn.

Once he sat, she brushed his hair out of his eyes and asked, “Are you all right? You’re not ill, are you?”

His eyes were blue, she’d come to find, though no one would guess. And they were quite striking. She’d lost track of when she’d started brushing his hair aside of her own volition to get a better look at him. He looked tired.

“I guess we’ll forego the stargazing?” she asked.

He blinked at her, stunned.

What he did next was strange. He turned to face the table and pulled his hair to hang before his eyes once more as he ate. Everything about the way he acted said she’d made a mistake, but she couldn’t understand what.

Perhaps he wanted to see the stars with her.

But after dinner when she went out and waited for him just in case, he never came.

The next day with the wash was equally as effortless. Her expert washing had Aggu thrilled, Shaza angry, other wives confused, but Wyrn was more accommodating when they met before lunch. He ate on his own yet again but was on time for dinner.

It was the first time the two of them ate without speaking. it was also the first time Bonn spoke to her in weeks.

“I hear you’ve been having much success with the wash.”

The wash? Why was everyone so concerned with the wash?

She would have answered if not for Shaza’s tensed shoulders. Shaza wasn’t the only one acting strangely. Wyrn’s jaw tightened. In fact, when Bonn tried to speak again, Wyrn glared at his brother and the man shut up.

That night, Vadde waited after dinner, too. She’d all but given up when she stood to find him standing at a distance, watching her.

Vadde wasn’t sure what to make of it but when she sat down again, he finally approached and did as well. They didn’t have much to say but that was all right.

In the days following, the praises for the wash didn’t dull, but the tone…changed.

“It’s very lovely,” Aggu said, teeth gritted. She picked up a dress and straightened it out with a flick of her wrists.

Till now, it had been sheets and rags she’d put on display. Swallowing hard, Vadde formed one conclusion…that wasn’t what she’d washed that morning.

And the women were tepid to her as well.

In an effort to save her own skin, she said, “Perhaps I should…hang them all on my own.”

She expected opposition but everyone abandoned their baskets of wet clothes and started for the house for other chores.

It took ages and it was well past lunchtime when she finished. But the work wasn’t what troubled her—there’d been no time to see the animals before noon. Once the very last garment fluttered on the breeze, she noticed something wrong. One large area of the clothesline was free. That shouldn’t happen.

Perhaps someone left their basket down by the river. Other than her….

The thought occurred to her so slowly that she closed her eyes. Fool.

“Fool,” she scolded aloud as she hurried to the same river she’d left early, her basket hidden in with the others in her ill-begotten trick.

She reached the top of the hill but froze at what she saw. Crouched down beside the basket, washing in the most careful way, was Wyrn.

Her thoughts raced but they couldn’t catch up with reality. She’d washed those. Well, wet them and put them with the others in hopes someone else more skilled would do the rest—and he had.

But in the mornings when she asked to leave early, Aggu never complained. Had the woman honestly left Vadde’s basket of clothes there? And Vadde’d never known. If she’d come back the next day, even once, to find it here, she would have been embarrassed enough to realize her mistake. Instead, Wyrn’d washed for her at lunchtime and never made mention of it. This was why he now ate alone. Had he eaten at all? Those thoughts had Vadde marching down that hill, not to show her appreciation but rather her anger.

She got about halfway before her senses came back to her.

Even from the back, Wyrn looked weary. For days she’d brushed his hair aside to see his tired eyes. Because if he was doing her chores now, what of his own? He must have done them after lunch, and they were so plentiful that he could barely find the strength to come to dinner.

The sigh that left her came because of several truths. He was a dear. She was a lazy princess, and because she hadn’t the strength or knowledge to do his chores instead to return the favor, she walked down to the river.

When she crouched, he flinched. “Vadde!”

Even when he yelled it came out hushed. It was rarer still that he called her by name—he’d never uttered her real one. It occurred to her now that she never offered it to him. As she took one of her poorly washed clothes from the basket, she begged, “Show me how you do it so well.”

His face was crimson, but he eventually nodded.

The thought occurred to her that she should give him her real name but after so long, she hesitated to remind him of how they’d met.

Upon him wringing the clothes out and putting it aside, she stilled his hands.

He tensed up. The tanned color of his skin, burned by the sunlight under which he worked daily, still contrasted to the paleness of hers.

But the touch of his hand was what confused her. She loved it. A fire burned in her gut at his close proximity. She appreciated that he didn’t pull away or ask her why she was being so strange. Because she didn’t know.

For a long while, an urge came to her, and she didn’t understand what it meant until their eyes locked. She longed to kiss him.

With that, she sighed in relief because she hadn’t understood her feelings all that much. They were married, and now the feelings had finally come, and she was at peace.

But when she closed her eyes and leaned in, he recoiled and asked, “What are you doing?”

Vadde’s eyes flew open. “What?”

He shivered. “Don’t. You don’t have to do that. I wasn’t trying to get you to do that.” He went back to the wash, moving faster, less meticulous, no longer interested in showing her what to do. “I was just trying to help.”

She opened her mouth to convey her understanding, but his reaction came so sudden and unexpectedly that it confused her.

Too stunned and hurt to move, she watched him.

Finally, he threw the last shirt down and asked, “Did Shaza put you up to this?”

Vadde blinked at him. “What?”

His chest was heaving by the time he stood. She, on the other hand, couldn’t find the strength to follow. He left the basket but that hardly mattered. She couldn’t perceive it; she was so numb.

He’d walked away, she concluded but tentative fingers on her shoulders said otherwise.

She risked looking up at him and he pulled her to stand.

In their time together, he never explained his feelings or motivations. Sometimes his reactions confused her. This was the first time he explained something to her about the way he felt.

Shaza was supposed to be Wyrn’s wife. She’d been brought here for that, and she’d tried. And one thing she’d done was kiss him for rewards or to shut him up. Bonn’s wife was due at the time. But Shaza’d pined for Bonn and when his wife and child perished, she was by his side overnight. The kisses to Wyrn had meant nothing.

“So please, don’t do that,” he said, eyes cast low.

The story upset Vadde but not for the reasons he thought. She was thankful when he took her hand and traced her fingertips with his own.

“I enjoy helping you. And we are good friends.”

His hand slipped away, and Vadde felt lost. She met eyes with him again and it was by luck or a curse that the wind cast his hair aside and she could see his features fully.

She could see the rest of him, too. Hunchback. She hadn’t thought of that word or dared uttered it for weeks now.

Despite standing so close to one another, a chasm lay before them. She wanted to leap across it but didn’t know how. And didn’t know if it was right to try to. What if she lost interest, too? What would she say to him? Or what if he found out that he’d been given a cursed princess—a burden—and not a prize?

Finally, she came to one conclusion, and it was one she knew was true for him as well. This was enough. She was satisfied with just this.

This was enough for her.

She fought back the urge to hug him, to pull his mouth close to hers because till now, she’d been avoiding one very real truth, she never looked at his body, just his face.

Because other than the scarring on his lip, he was very handsome. And because then she wouldn’t have to acknowledge that what was true for her, was true for him, as well—she wasn’t yet comfortable with his form and that was wrong.

“Thank you for the help,” she told him, “but I’ll do it properly tomorrow.” The disappointment in his eyes made her smile. “And I will join you in the evening, and for dinner, and for the stars. All right?”

In time, his smile came. “All right.”

Yes, this was enough for now. But what he said next made their close friendship insufficient and no longer an option.

“A spell keeps newcomers locked in. I waited for you to ask about it, but I never broached it because I was afraid you’d leave.”

In the bout of silence to follow, Vadde felt hollow. It was the same pit that formed in her gut at the thought of losing his favor. Everything in her said to speak—to shout and confess that she’d known about the spell, even gotten trapped by it, but didn’t care. Without the intent of never returning, she could not leave, but there was nowhere to go. She didn’t want to go back to being lonely Rihetha sitting in a cold drafty castle with no prospects for the future. Being Vadde was fine. Vadde was treated well here. So why couldn’t she tell him that?

He spoke instead. “Even now, every day when I wake up and see you here, I’m happy…and surprised.” It was the way he stopped moving that concerned her enough to try and touch his face. He stepped back to avoid her hold. “You’re so trusting, but I should have been upfront and told you about the spell. I’ve got a lot of responsibilities. Being a Jaffo is no easy task. It’s risky and I’m afraid. And it’s not right to keep you here. So, I’ve sent word to your prince.” He hesitated then confessed, “He should be here in a few days.”

And then he walked away, leaving her stunned and stupid.