"I am eager to meet them, as well," Cecilia said. Her previously stoic expression broke into an almost pleasant smile. It was a little strained, and somewhat unfamiliar to the princess after having no reason to smile for so long, but it was a start. "And I look forward to discussing things at length with you all in the morning... but you're right. For now, I just want to take a proper bath and sleep in a real bed." Her smile grew more genuine at the mention.

As thankful as she was to Baron Monticourt and the others for their kindness, she was exhausted. It had been a long day. As it turned out, freedom was tiring work. At his final request, she could only offer him a look of appreciation. "I think you've done quite enough for me for one day," Cecilia said. "I'm sure I'll have more questions than you could possibly answer and even more requests in the morning, but for now, I'm content." In fact, she was more than content. She felt amazing. The air was sweeter. Breathing was easier. Her stomach was not aching from lack of nutrition.

It did not take long for the maid to come with a tub for her, which was filled with steaming hot water, and a neatly folded set of clean clothes. The princess waited until the cellar doors closed and she was finally alone before she peeled the ragged dress from her body. For a few minutes, she stood before the bath - her old clothes a pile at her feet - and examined her nakedness. She was marked with angry red rashes in places from the dirty clothes, and her skin was dry and irritated. Her wrists and ankles were scarred from her early days in the dungeons when she had been shackled. She was bony, malnourished, and pale. Not the kind of alabaster pale that was considered beautiful among women her age, but sickly pale.

Just as carefully as she had pinned it back that morning in preparation for her execution, Cecilia untied her hair from its braid and let it fall lank and heavy over her shoulders. She stepped into the bath and lowered herself down, gasping ever so slightly as the hot water touched her skin.

For a long while she just laid there, breathing in the steamy air. When the water began to cool, she dunked her head down and washed the years of grime and knots from her hair. When she moved her hand away from her head, strings of hair hung from her fingers where it had fallen out. The princess didn't care. What was a little hair when she now had a whole life ahead of her?

She crawled into the bed situated in the corner of the cellar looking like a new woman. Her skin was pink from the hot water, and her wet hair braided properly over her shoulder instead of tucked back into a matted mess. She had a spring in her step and a new light in her eyes as she sunk into the soft sheets.

A part of her mind wondered if she really had died that morning, because surely this was the Promised Land. With that thought in mind, Cecilia drifted off to sleep, a content smile on her face.