The flames were low at first, but once all the wood caught on fire, it brought brilliance and warmth into the room. A large staircase led higher up, and there was more to the chateau to explore, but I didn’t want the lights on up above, just in case they’d crossed the river to search for me.
The horse gulped in the foyer, the sound echoing against the stone interior.
There was a blanket on the back of one of the couches, so I grabbed it and wrapped it around my body. A rug was on the floor in front of the fireplace, so I pulled the cushions from the couch and made myself a bed next to the fireplace. I was still shivering, my bones frozen, so I snuggled in by the fire, as close as I could get without burning myself, and I lay there…thawing.
The shivering lasted a long time…for hours.
But the heat moved back into my skin, my muscles, and then my bones. Blood started to circulate once more. My knees were pulled to my chest, my arms wrapped around my upper body, and I gripped myself tightly until the jerking stopped.
I did it… I made it.
Hooves echoed against the stone as the horse came into the sitting room. They became louder and louder, muffled once they hit the rug. A loud neigh sounded, like she came close to feel the fire. Then she bent her legs and lowered herself, taking up the spot behind me, just like a dog that came over to snuggle.
I smiled and reached for her mane behind me, feeling it along the back of her neck. “Thank you…”
When I opened my eyes the next morning, the fire was gone, the sunlight was coming through all the windows, and the horse was gone.
I stared at the ashes in the hearth, the previous night slowly coming back to me. It was hazy at first, but then flashes returned, riding the horse in the darkness, crossing that frozen river, the distant sound of a barking dog on the wind.
And then I realized…it was the first time in months I’d woken up as a free woman.
I quickly sat upright, the blanket falling off my naked body, the realization hitting me so hard that I sobbed. The grand sitting room echoed my tears back at me, amplifying them, giving me the most cathartic experience of my life.
I made it.
I didn’t wake up on that shitty mattress. I wasn’t marched to work in the cold. I didn’t sit there at the table and eat my lunch in silence, sneaking in conversations because I’d lost my right to even talk to someone.
It was over.
The horse neighed loudly.
That silenced my tears. I turned to look at her.
She stood nearby, her neighs echoing against the stone.
I wiped my tears away with the back of my arm. “You must be hungry, huh?”
She neighed as if she were answering me.
I got to my feet and tied the blanket around me like a toga. “I doubt there’s anything in the kitchen…” I walked inside and looked around, seeing the old-fashioned decor, the kitchen island made of solid wood, the small fridge like that looked as though it was installed sometime in the sixties. The kitchen wasn’t built for a fridge, so it stuck out like it didn’t belong.
She followed me to the door, shifting her neck but not stepping into the confined space.
“What do horses eat?” I moved to the pantry and started to open doors. It was mostly canned goods. “Hay? Oats?” I kept looking, finding old boxes of cereal, mostly expired products. Then I found a large container of plain oats. “Yes!” I held up the container to her. “Look what I found.”
She stared at me blankly, her eyes wiggling.
I found another large pot and emptied the entire container inside before I carried it back to her pot of water, which was empty. There were horse droppings around, along with puddles of urine. My living conditions had been terrible, so I didn’t blink an eye over it. “Here.”
She walked over, dropped her neck to smell it, and then started to munch.
“I’m glad you like it.” I rubbed her neck while she ate. “I need to give you a name. I’m sure you already have one, but they probably named you something stupid.” I searched for something pretty, because she was a beautiful brown horse with a light-colored mane. “How about Rose? That was my mother’s name.”
She continued to eat.
I patted her on the neck. “No objection? Rose, it is.”
19
Rose
I was too afraid to let Rose outside because the guards might still be looking for me, so I continued to give her water and scavenge for things to feed her. When the droppings and puddles became too much, I cleaned them up and threw them outside, but she always seemed to be making droppings, so I could never really stay on top of it.