The morning air in the village was crisp, smelling of dew and the lingering scent of pine. Saying goodbye to Leonhard and Veer felt like waking from a dream, but one that left me feeling more solid, more anchored than I had in years.
As we turned to leave, I caught one last glimpse of the cottage, the smoke curling from the chimney, the quiet life they had built together. My heart felt full, the jagged edges of my past smoothed over by the simple kindness of old friends.
White and I walked side-by-side down the village pathway, the sun beginning to climb higher, casting long, warm shadows on the grass. My new braid felt light against my shoulder, a physical anchor to the happiness I'd finally allowed myself to hold.
"I'm glad we came, you look... lighter, Roxy. Like the weight you've been carrying has finally been put down."
I smiled, and for once, it wasn't a performance.
"I think it has."
We had barely crested the first gentle hill when movement caught my eye. A silhouette appeared in the distance, dark against the bright, sweeping landscape. It was a figure running toward us, moving with a frantic urgency that didn't match the peaceful morning. As she drew closer, the distinctive uniform became clear: a maid's attire, fluttering in the wind.
"Alice?" I murmured, recognizing the worried set of her shoulders.
She stopped a few feet away, breathless and panting, her hands clutching her skirts.
"Ladies! Oh, thank goodness, I've been scouring the area for hours. The carriage is already prepared at the edge of Town Allure. We're behind schedule."she gasped, her eyes wide with relief.
She paused, her frantic energy suddenly stalling as her gaze locked onto us. She blinked, her worry momentarily replaced by sheer bewilderment. She scanned from the top of my braided head down to White's elegant, pinned-up style, her mouth slightly agape.
"My... my goodness, your hair... the braids... you both look absolutely beautiful. I hardly recognized you." Alice stuttered, her eyes widening.
A warm flush rose to my cheeks, but it wasn't the shame I used to feel under scrutiny. It was genuine pleasure. I touched the sunflower-yellow ribbon Veer had tied into my hair, feeling a surge of affection for the memory of the night before.
"Thank you, Alice, It was a gift from a friend." Alice stuttered, her eyes widening.
White offered a graceful nod, her expression serene.
"We're ready, Alice. Let's head back."
With a final look back at the village… the home of new beginnings… we fell into step behind Alice. As we marched toward the waiting carriage and the looming responsibilities of Town Allure, I realized the world hadn't changed, but I had. The curse still pulsed beneath my skin, and the road ahead was likely still paved with struggle, but for the first time, I wasn't walking it as a broken weapon. I was walking it as Roxy, and that was more than enough.
The walk back toward the carriage was a steady rhythm of gravel crunching under our boots. Alice was still visibly shaken, her chest heaving as she kept pace with us, casting anxious glances back toward the village we had just left.
"You have no idea, the manor staff… and the Bureau… were ready to send out a search party. If you hadn't been found within the hour, I... I would have been held responsible. I was almost fired on the spot for losing track of two high-ranking members." Alice stuttered, her eyes widening.
She looked at us, her expression a mix of genuine relief and terrified exhaustion. "I honestly thought I was finished, ladies. I've never seen the head maid that furious."
I felt a pang of guilt. Alice was just doing her job, and the last thing I wanted was for her to suffer because of my need for a moment of peace. But before I could offer a formal apology, White let out a soft, melodic laugh. It wasn't the polite, guarded chuckle she used in public; it was genuine, lighthearted, and completely unburdened.
White reached out, her hand resting gently on Alice's arm to slow her down.
"Oh, Alice, don't worry yourself so much, we weren't exactly trying to disappear. We just... needed a bit of air. A bit of time away from the politics of the manor." she said, her eyes crinkling with amusement.
Alice blinked, seemingly stunned by White's lack of concern.
"I am truly sorry for the trouble we caused you, we didn't mean to put your position at risk. Tell the head maid it was my decision entirely… that I took Roxy on an unscheduled detour. I'll make sure you aren't blamed for our little 'troublesomeness.'" White continued, her tone shifting to one of sincere warmth.
I nodded in agreement, feeling a strange sense of liberation in this small act of rebellion.
"She's right, Alice. We'll handle the explanation. You've been far too kind to us to be punished for a morning walk."
Alice let out a long, shaky breath, her shoulders finally dropping from their rigid posture.
"If you say so, Lady White. It's just... you both look so different. The braids, the way you're carrying yourselves... it's as if you've come back from a different world than the one you left yesterday."
I looked at White, who was already smiling at me, the sunlight catching the intricate plaits in her hair.
"In a way, Alice, we really have." I said softly, reaching up to touch my own yellow ribbon,
As we emerged from the tree line and the farmhouse came into view, the sight of the carriage… elegant, imposing, and entirely out of place in the rustic surroundings… hit me like a cold splash of reality. But before I could brace myself for the inevitable interrogation, I saw her.
Snow was sitting on the driver's bench, her posture rigid, radiating a palpable, freezing fury. As soon as she spotted us, her eyes narrowed into sharp daggers. She didn't just look upset; she looked like a storm cloud ready to break over our heads.
She jumped down from the carriage with a grace that was entirely sharp and purposeful. She marched straight toward us, ignoring Alice's nervous attempt to step between us. Her gaze bypassed me entirely, focusing instead on her daughter, White.
"White! What is the meaning of this? You left without a word, without permission, and you've had the entire staff scouring the countryside like common fools. Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused?" Snow's voice cut through the morning air, cold and authoritative.
I tensed, my instinct to defend White… to step in front of her and take the heat… flaring up. But White surprised me. Instead of cowering or adopting her usual mask of cool, aristocratic duty, she didn't look bothered at all.
White's shoulders remained relaxed, the intricate braids Veer had crafted still perfectly intact, catching the sunlight. She looked at her mother not with fear, but with a strange, quiet peace.
"I apologize, Mother. We didn't mean to cause a stir. We simply needed to remember what it was like to breathe without a schedule."
White said, her voice steady and surprisingly light. A small, genuine smile, the same one she had worn while we were knitting, tugged at the corner of her lips.
Snow stopped dead, her expression flickering from pure indignation to genuine shock. She wasn't used to seeing her daughter look so...content. She blinked, her gaze shifting from White's calm face to the vibrant, sunny ribbons in our hair.
"You… you've been gone all night. And you're... laughing?"
"We've been with friends, Mother, we're perfectly fine. In fact, for the first time in a long time, we are more than fine."
I stood beside her, my hand resting comfortably in the folds of my maid dress, no longer trying to hide my mutilated arm or the curse that hummed beneath my skin. I didn't feel like a servant, and I didn't feel like a monster. I just felt like a person who had spent a wonderful night among friends.
Snow looked between us, her stern features softening in confusion. She looked at the braids, then at our relaxed postures, and for a moment, the silence was thick with the weight of the change she couldn't quite put her finger on. She wasn't happy… she was Snow, after all… but the sharp, cutting edge of her anger had been blunted by the sight of us, standing there, unburdened.
The carriage doors closed with a soft, authoritative thud, sealing us away from the quiet peace of the morning. Inside, the cabin was plush and smelled faintly of lavender and old parchment… a stark contrast to the scent of woodsmoke and roasted herbs we had just left behind.
Snow sat opposite us, her sharp eyes scanning our faces, still searching for some sign of the wayward, rebellious daughters she thought she had lost. She didn't say a word, but the rhythmic clapping of the horses' hooves against the dirt road filled the silence, a steady beat that matched the calm now settled in my chest.
As the carriage lurched forward, gaining speed, I leaned toward the window. The farmhouse was shrinking in the distance, and there, standing by the edge of the road, was Alice. She looked small against the vast, sweeping green of the countryside, clutching her apron, watching us leave.
I raised my hand, my one hand… and waved. It wasn't a stiff, formal gesture, but a simple, heartfelt motion of gratitude. Beside me, White did the same, her face illuminated by the bright, morning light streaming through the glass, her braids gleaming like spun silk.
Alice waved back, a tentative, happy smile spreading across her face as the carriage gathered momentum.
"You've changed, both of you, you left as if you were burdened by the world, and you return as if you've found something you were missing."
Snow remarked, her voice uncharacteristically quiet. She wasn't scolding anymore; she sounded genuinely perplexed, perhaps even a little unsettled by the lack of the usual weight she expected to see on our shoulders.
"We did, we found a little bit of ourselves, Mother."
White replied, her voice soft but absolute. She leaned her head back against the velvet cushions, looking out the window at the passing trees.
I turned my gaze away from the retreating countryside and looked down at my lap. My fingers traced the fabric of my dress, feeling the strength in my hand, the rhythm of my own pulse, and the quiet, steady humming of the curse that I no longer feared. I wasn't the same girl who had arrived in this valley. The scars remained, the memories of the ravine were still there, and the road to Town Allure would bring its own set of demands, but I was whole in a way that mattered.
As the village disappeared behind the crest of the hills, I didn't feel the phantom tug of regret. I watched the golden landscape blur into a streak of color, ready to embrace whatever the city had in store for us, knowing that I would never truly be alone again.
The carriage rolled on, carrying us toward the future, and for the first time in my life, I wasn't running from anything. I was simply moving forward.