Rihetha lived a perfect life until the age of thirteen. Everything changed one day in the fall. It was one day and it was a day she remembered well. Because it was the only day her kingdom ever saw such heavy fog that the clouds descended and blanketed the world. Some might argue that she exaggerated her life but she had proof that that day existed. That she’d lived it. Because that was the day she’d been cursed.

“Come away from the window, dear,” nurse said.

But Rihetha preferred the window. The air was fresh and crisp. It was a wonderment seeing the world fall into dark yet white clouds.

That wasn’t all that caught her interest, something was coming. Something was cutting through that fog.

Metal clanged as the door swung open and slammed into the wall.

“She’s here. Get everything ready. We have but one chance. Keep Rih safe here. Do you hear?”

King Hern was not known for his light footsteps but he was certainly a sight as he raced back down the stairs nimbly.

Nurse ran around, frantic to drag the chest close to the bed. Her plan was to hide behind it.

“Come, child!” she called.

Rihetha, still standing by the window, glanced from the woman’s outstretched arms of offered safety and out the window once more.

In the dull gray of the mist, a black line appeared. It moved so slowly that she took it for her imagination. But soon it was close enough for her to see the blob of tar moving through the streets—heading straight for the castle.

“What—what is that?”

“Don’t look!”

But Rihetha couldn’t help it.  The streak paused and rotated backwards, gazing up at her, she knew.

“There’s a face,” Rihetha marveled. “I see a face!”

“Look away!”

This was an amazing sight. Such a beautiful face morphed from filth.

In time, the blob tilted downward and began its journey once more. Rihetha crossed the room to peer out the next window, more than ready to see the drawbridge hold it back.

To her shock, the bridge wasn’t raised.

“It’s opened.” Rihetha gasped. “I must warn Father.”

“What are you doing, child? You will be killed!”

Nurse was always one for gross exaggeration, so Rihetha ignored her and rushed out the door and down the unending steps.

The hall stretched out before her. No matter how fast she ran, her body failed to reach the end.

Beyond it was the throne room and she had to warn her father. Eons passed before she touched the stone wall and turned right, emptying into the throne room.

She took a tumble. But it was what she saw of the palace officials that made her stumble back.

The blob was here. It should have been far away still, and yet, here it stood. But that wasn’t all, kneeling before it, the king and queen bowed their heads.

A strong streak ran from the front door right to the throne. In this close proximity, Rihetha could see. Dirt. The blob was dirt. In the shape of a…a woman. A beautiful woman.

When the voice came, it sounded strangled and forced, an entity unfamiliar with this form of communication, perhaps. It was dirt, but the voice resembled someone drowning, gasping for each breath.

“You wished to capture me, King Hern, but that is unnecessary. I know what it is you seek and how you can receive that blessing.”

“Goddess, no,” the king insisted. “I would never do such a thing.”

Something fell, slamming into the ground. Then another. Rihetha tore her eyes away from the spectacle to look up at the chandelier. Another piece of the white crystal darkened and dropped, scattering to the ground.

“Confess. Or I will leave.”

Dread crawled through Rihetha’s mind. She was so afraid that she thought to confess on her father’s behalf.

“Confess!” the goddess demanded.

Hern remained defiant but his wife blurted, “I confess. It was my plan. But we are desperate.”

The dirt shrunk down and Rihetha imagined a maiden sitting.

“I take no pleasure coming here,” the creature said. “I take no pleasure in what has come or will come to pass. You seek but one thing.”

She waited and King Hern finally humbled himself and answered, “Yes. But why would you help us?”

“It comes at a price.” The hushed voice came again. “Man is violent, I know. I do not deny you your nature and you need not deny me mine. But your wars harm all that I’ve built. I ask for peace. Let peace rein for five more years. Give my land time to recover. In return for this, I will grant you the knowledge of how to obtain a male heir.”

Rihetha’s mother’s cheeks brightened. The pleased smile grew.

Hern was less than thrilled. “With all due respect, we have been slighted by a neighbor who threatens us as we speak. Are we to simply stand down and not fight when they come for us?”

“That is exactly what you must do.”

At the silence, she stood again. It wasn’t a perfect outline. From all angles, it was dirt, more of a hill, with a girl encased within. Her arms had no slender frame, but rather one that hung like a curtain of dirt as she extended her hand and indicated the queen.

“You are old, but the potential is there.”

Hern picked his head up but lowered his gaze yet again. “If you can guarantee my people’s lives, I will not attack first. Not for five years. We are in agreement. Please. Tell us what we must do.”

The dirt circling the goddess shifted, moving in the opposite direction of which she turned. It orbited her, swirling around like a grimy halo encompassing her body.

“A boy cannot come because you have no intention of letting the girl go.”

Mother picked up her head. Upon casting a direct gaze on the goddess, her right eye glowed then turned gray.

“Forgive me!” she wailed, hiding her face.

Silence drifted around them. The king thought to look at his wife but changed his mind. Instead, he bowed lower. “Goddess, explain. Please explain it.”

“I owe you no explanation. I’ve told you. You hold that child prisoner here. You cannot be given something you wish to imprison yet again. In five years’ time, hold a tournament and whatever being wins her, you bestow her to them and never take her back.”

The queen stifled a gasp. “No. No. Hern, think before you speak!”

“Oh, this is not his doing,” the goddess said, turning to focus on her completely. “It is yours.”

The dirt rose then fell again, bringing a horrible stomp with it.

“The moment you decide to let that child go, as per my advisement, you will receive what you desire. Even this very night. By this time next year, you will have your heir. But know this, should your heart ever falter, you will lose that birth, and all others. So, you must only decide how long you wish to wait.”

That hushed voice came muffled. In that moment, Rihetha understood. It wasn’t water that muzzled the woman, but the dirt that surrounded her.

“Your wife has committed sins to get your first child. I only tell you how to navigate her hubris. This isn’t my doing, Your Majesty. It is hers. And now it is yours.”

A burned smell drifted throughout the throne room. The dirt solidified. No breeze blew, and yet, the top part broke and crumbled, spreading ashes throughout. When it collapsed and scattered, the king and queen both shot to their feet and jumped back.

Nothing remained after that. Rihetha trembled as she watched on.

She wasn’t the only one shaken. Her mother was already in tears.

“We should consult another—”

“You would defy The Living Goddess?”

His wife fired back, “Won’t you!”

In the next five years, Rihetha searched for that fog each day. It never returned. She took some comfort in remaining an only child.

Until one day she simply wasn’t.

That was the very day a notice went out, there would be a tournament.

Her little window afforded her the first glimpse of the prince’s envoy.

To say she was excited when she exited her chambers and ran downstairs to see who he was and what he’d come for was an understatement.

“I am Prince Orm of Wisen,” he announced with a grand bow. “And I have come for the tournament next week. Five years ago, our slight to you still leaves bitterness between us. So let us put an end to it through deeper ties. Won’t you forgo the competition and negotiate directly?”

The king gave no answer, but Orm dined with them that very night. At dawn, Rihetha gave him a tour of the garden.

He was rather handsome. Some of his customs were a bit strange. For one, on several occasions, he’d walked behind her, press his nose to the back of her head, and suck in a deep breath. Though his sudden proximity was often alarming, she reminded herself that it was better than how people usually treated her. Since the goddess’s visit five years ago, few directed a glance Rihetha’s way, not without muttering a quiet prayer.

So, although it was uncomfortable when the man stepped close, she persevered. She told herself this was normal. Normal people stepped close when they spoke. His hand on her waist had all her senses awake and she was sure to not break away lest he scorn her presence as well.

“Are you well-traveled, sir?”

Orm glanced at her then looked up and around at the tall hedges. “Is this a maze?”

“Why yes. Would you like to see it?”

“And is anyone able to observe us once inside?”

Such a strange question, but Rihetha considered the answer. “No. I don’t suppose anyone could.”

His brown eyes took her in, and he affirmed, “Then yes. Oh yes. I’d love to see it.”

Rihetha hurried ahead of him. When he gave chase, she looked back but once then raced on. The next glance satisfied her; she’d adequately left him behind in the shrub.

“Princess?” he called. “Where have you gone?”

The next wall of shrubs over, Rihetha laughed. “I am here. Go on. You can find your way.”

He laughed, though not as heartily as she.

“Princess!” the nurse called from a room high up. “It’s your mother. Hurry!”

Her mother wanted to see her. Rihetha considered the best way to get the prince free, but it would take some time.

“Your Highness, please forgive me. But I’ll be back in but a moment. I promise.”

“Wait. What?”

He said more but Rihetha was already heading back inside the palace. She found her mother sitting up in bed, staring at her new baby boy by her bedside, though her expression held no joy.

This time, too, nurse had taken her leave before Rihetha’s arrival. Since that distant day, the woman’s neck now sported several charms and talismans. Perhaps those protectorates were why she could stand to be in Rihetha’s presence at all to keep face. Before thirteen, lessons had been close and thorough. Now, nurse relegated Rihetha to mostly self-study from books. Surely, they could do no better. Because Mother had noticed but said nothing of how nurse still avoided Rihetha like the cursed child she was.

“Mother.” Rihetha rushed to her.

Only one brown iris focused on her—the other eye had remained gray these five years now.

Despite falling at the woman’s bedside, she gave Rihetha no eye contact.

Being here was strange because this time she started to cry immediately rather than after a few minutes of speaking.

“I am very sorry.”

“No. Mother. Do not apologize. I don’t care what anyone says. I don’t blame you. But a prince has come. He seems awfully nice. And he’s so handsome. I will leave with him. And that will be all right. He’s well-traveled, too. And I’ve never been anywhere.”

Her mother refused to look at her.

Rihetha waited but eventually stood and made her way out. An hour passed with a nagging feeling. She was almost ready to retire for bed when it struck her.

“The prince!”

Her foot wasn’t yet on the bottom step, she turned and hurried down the hall. Dress hiked up, she ran full tilt. The door neared and opened.

She came to a halt, relieved to see Prince Orm emerged into the hall.

“Oh, Your Highness. I’m so s—”

A hand caught her by the throat and hoisted her up. When her back slammed into the stone wall, a twisted scowl accompanied it.

“I won’t be mocked or made into a fool by anyone!”

Frightened beyond response, Rihetha stared at him, her eyes wild.

He slammed her again and the moment she broke into tears, he found enough satisfaction to drop her and step past.

Sick with herself, Rihetha remained where he left her for ages before her legs stopped shaking and could once again support her as she stood.

The day of the tournament a week later, no amount of protest or begging resounded. Therefore, she resolved to run away. She’d made it to the drawbridge before being apprehended.

“You can tell my father to go to hell!” she protested. Till now, she’d avoided Orm rather well. Wherever he was, she would find a new place to inhabit. Now, sat next to her father as the competition went on, Rihetha struggled to keep herself composed.

Orm accompanied someone foreign to her.

“Sir, it’s a hunchback. Should we turn him away?”

King Hern considered it then sighed. “No. If that cad has a henchman, then so be it.”

While Orm eyed Rihetha with a malicious stare, she returned his glare. Best if she got used to the face she’d never escape now.

The day vanished in moments and leaving her rescue in the most unlikely place—in the hands of a hunchback.

“I don’t need the wife.”

Those words weighed Rihetha’s head down. She didn’t watch Orm’s insincere duel to avenge her honor.

She considered it luck and good fortune that the hunchback stood victorious. The fact that he refused her a second time resonated.

A pariah was more well received than she. Even when she gathered her things, the hunchback required armed guards lest he flee. With his wagon so small, she decided to carry a meager amount of her favorite dresses. On the way to meet him, she walked tall and strong, but something happened when she saw that little man’s scowl masked by all that hair. He didn’t want her.

So what was the alternative? Find Prince Orm, that scum, and beg him to take her instead? The night Orm slammed her into the wall came back as did the tears. And that hadn’t been the worst of it.

Now, she and the hunchback stood there in the morning air for a lifetime before the man started walking.

He didn’t introduce himself, or ask her for a name, or offer her a ride on the wagon. Nothing. She walked behind him, paraded through the streets as the hunchback’s new bride. A bride he didn’t even want.

And then it came, once they reached a crossroad, he threw some money at her feet and told her to find an inn. This was her first time out of the palace in all her life. He started to walk. Each step he took further away, a pit formed in her stomach.

She should have listened. But instead, she followed behind him like some silly pet. Upon seeing her again, he only gasped and ran past her to get what mattered more, the money.

Rihetha looked at the donkeys. She wasn’t used to being this close to animals. The one from her father started walking and the other one moved as well.

At a loss, Rihetha hurried along beside them. “Wait. Wait. Ah! Wait.” She tried to yell, hoping it would startle them to stop moving. They started to run. “What! No. No! Come back.”

The reins bounced, nearly falling. With her left, she grabbed them, but once she was on the wagon, the donkeys sped up and she had no way of stopping.

“Please. No. Please,” she begged.

But they picked up speed and she held on for dear life.

A whistle broke through the fading daylight and the mules stopped sudden, throwing her to the dirt.

Rihetha’s body slammed into the ground hard. Everything faded. Her soul drifted. She felt nothing.

“Wake up,” someone commanded.

Her face stung; maybe someone slapped her.

“Get up!”

With a jerking of her body, her eyes flew open and all she saw was a brown mess. The Living Goddess.

She recoiled but upon doing so, realized that it was not that monster, but rather, the hunchback, looming over her.

A disapproving scowl hung on his face as he stepped past. The moment he unhooked his donkey and took it with him, she pulled herself to her feet and decided he’d abandoned her.

Night was coming and she had no idea where to go in either direction. By luck or a miracle, the hunchback returned sometime later with something on a spike. He made a fire and began to roast a bird.

Having not eaten since morning, Rihetha salivated. But she’d caused enough trouble, so she waited. He offered none to her. After that, he tied his donkey’s reins to his right foot and curled up. He was calling her a thief.

With that, she decided to forgo trying to eat what remained of the bird.

For now, they said nothing to one another but in the morning, she feared he’d either leave her as she slept or chase her away.

Therefore, she climbed into the wagon, covered herself under the cloth there, pulled her clothes to her, and curled up, determined to ignore the pangs of hunger that rippled through her. Perhaps if he arrived where he was going, he’d consider keeping her.