The princess bolted awake, out of a confusing dream. She groggily reached up to the headboard and grabbed her phone to check. 1:30 a.m.
Princess, her maid murmured gently, you’ve fallen asleep in your clothing again. It’s the third night in a row. Also, you have your third Task and your nighttime medications remaining.
“Urrrgh.” The sleepy princess half-rolled over, hot and uncomfortable, twisted up in a bathrobe and pajama pants underneath covers that were far too thick. Whatever had possessed her to crawl into bed like this, with her daily tasks undone? “My head isn’t working right.”
Your head is perfectly fine, Princess, her maid returned. But you really must get out of bed, or you’ll regret it later.
“… I hate this,” she murmured softly, her eyes already starting to close again. She felt awful, all over her body; she knew she couldn’t just lay here, she had to get up. So why? Why was it just so easy…
The princess grappled with consciousness, and swiped at her phone. 1:50 a.m. She said a very unpleasant word at the sight and the phone slipped suddenly from her hand as the nerves failed her for a moment, thumping onto the floor in the gap between the bed and the wall. She said a second unpleasant word, a little more softly this time.
Princess, her maid murmured. It was a little reproachful, but mostly, it was just sorrowful.
“I wish you were here,” the princess grumbled quietly. She tried not to cry, just for a moment, then stopped trying and let the tears fall onto her pillow. “… I wish you’d help me do this. It’s not fair. None of it.”
Her maid sighed. Oh, Princess. I would love nothing more than to grab you by the arm and drag you out of bed, and set you right. And I would do it as many times as I had to – but you know the rules just as well as I do. I can never touch you; all I can offer is my words, and my presence. And I shall, for as long as you desire it.
“It still hurts,” the princess complained, muffled by her lightly tear-sprinkled pillow.
I know. Her maid smiled gently. But remember, you are not alone in your suffering.
The princess still didn’t move. “Why should I bother, though? Why should I try so hard when it’s always going to hurt so much?”
If not for yourself – why not for your friend? The other princess? Her maid giggled softly. He’s always so excited to hear you’ve managed to succeed in the difficult things you attempt. Wouldn’t you like to have him cheer you on again?
The princess’s cheeks flushed the tiniest little bit of pink. “… Well. I suppose you have a point.” She finally shifted under the covers, steeling herself. “A Princess wouldn’t do something so vulgar as… disappoint a friend.”
Well spoken.
The princess tossed the covers back, with effort. She winced a little, because moving hurt – any movement. She took another breath, and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and sat up. And then she breathed again, deeply.
I’m very proud of you, dear.
“Thanks,” she murmured softly. “… For being there.”
And so the princess began her Task, there on the edge of the bed. It was frustrating and painful, and she felt worse after, with her throat dry and raw and her head spinning; she wanted nothing more than to lay back down and cry again. But it was done, at least – even if she wasn’t, yet.
She gingerly shifted her weight forward and stood, making her way to the other end of the room to grab the empty glass from her desk, then wandered half-blindly through the dark hallway out to the refrigerator to refill it with cold water. She almost left the purifier empty out of sheer exhaustion – but a Princess doesn’t leave the job partially done, so she filled it up, aching arm and all, and left it to filter and get cold overnight.
The princess returned to her room, shut off the lamps, turned on the bathroom light, and took her nightly medicine from the collection of bottles atop the bathroom sink. Even the one unglamorous little pill, no matter how tempting simply swallowing it might have been.
She shut off the bathroom light and brought the half-full glass over to the bed, placing it on the headboard, then shrugged off everything but her shirt and underwear before wriggling under the covers and rolling onto her side. This time, the warmth was just right; not suffocating, but simply soothing.
The princess remembered, almost at the last moment, to start the looping white noise to help her sleep properly and keep the nightmares at bay. And then she finally got comfortable. It was already past 2 a.m.
She imagined her maid’s arms gently enfolding her, and sighed out a quiet breath.
Good night, princess.
“Good night, Este.”
diamonds from ash 
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