Chapter 2

I started keeping an eye on that well. There was a thick rope by the edge, stretching all the way down to the bottom; it must've been used for drawing water back in the day. The rope looked sturdy enough, and Sally probably figured no one would dare mess with it, so she never bothered to put it away.

All I needed now was a basket.

My chance came soon enough. The valet who brought food to the Cold Palace had his bamboo basket break, and he casually tossed it in the corner. I grabbed it when no one was paying attention.

Everything was ready; I just needed the right moment.

Nights in the Cold Palace were silent except for the wind and the chirping of insects. The night patrols seldom paid attention to our secluded little courtyard.

That night, the moon was swallowed up by thick clouds, and the darkness was so deep I couldn't see a thing. Listening to the steady snores of the other maids, I crept out of bed as quietly as I could.

I hugged my cloth bundle and basket to my chest, moving as silently as a cat, my bare feet cold against the stone floor.

My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might leap right out of my throat.

When I reached the well, it looked like the gaping mouth of some ravenous beast lurking in the darkness. I took a deep breath, put the bread in the basket, and fastened the handle to the rope.

Gripping the rope, I lowered the basket inch by inch. The rope was so rough, rubbing against my palms and making them sting.

The basket was so light I could barely feel its weight. I had to trust my instincts, lowering it slowly; it felt like it took ages.

Suddenly, the rope in my hand pulled tight.

That was it; it had hit the bottom.

I gripped the rope tightly, not daring to move a muscle. The silence was suffocating. I could even hear my own teeth chattering.

I wondered if anything was going to happen down there.

Or maybe she was already dead.

I waited for what felt like ages, but there was still no sound from the well. Maybe she was asleep, or maybe she was just too weak to respond.

I slowly inched the rope back up.

The basket felt almost weightless. I guessed someone must've taken what was inside.

I let out a sigh of relief, and a small, cozy sense of fulfillment warmed my heart. It was not fear, not pride, just a gentle contentment.

I put everything back just as it was, then quietly slipped back to the woodshed.

Back in bed, I ran my fingers over my scraped palms. They hurt, but somehow, that pain made me feel grounded.

I slept like a baby.

From that day on, every couple of nights or so, I'd sneak out late and drop bread down the well for her.

I made sure not to do it too often, just in case someone caught on.

Each time I lowered the basket and hauled it back up, the bread would always disappear. It became a silent pact between me and whoever was down there.

I still got scared. Every time I went near the well, my knees felt like jelly. But just thinking about someone down there waiting for my bread made me brave enough to do it all over again.

During the day, when I was chucking rocks, I kept my expression neutral. But I'd secretly pick out the smoother ones and aim for the edges, so they'd roll down the wall instead of crashing straight to the bottom.

I didn't know if it made any difference, but honestly, it was all I could do.

That day, when it was my turn to toss rocks, I had just picked one up when Sally came striding over.

Her shrewd eyes scanned me up and down. "Zora, you haven't looked well lately. Are you coming down with something?"

My heart jumped in my chest. I quickly dropped my gaze and answered Sally, "No, ma'am. It's just the heat. I haven't had much of an appetite."

Sally pinched my arm. "You're as skinny as a chicken claw." She snorted. "No appetite or not, you still have to eat. If you starve to death, I'll be the one stuck dragging your body out to bury it. Such bad luck."

I hurriedly replied, "Yes, ma'am. Yes, ma'am."

She stared at me for a moment, then finally turned and walked away.

I broke out in a cold sweat, and almost dropped the rock right then and there.

I wondered if Sally caught on to something.

I was on edge all day. That night, I lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

I didn't know if I should keep sneaking food down there.

If I got caught, they'd kill me for sure.

But if I didn't go, she might be starving. She was probably counting on me. She must be waiting for that bread.

Clenching my teeth, I slipped out of bed.

The moonlight was especially clear tonight; its chilly silver glow washing over the courtyard and coating the wild grass and stone slabs with a pale layer of frost.

I was even more cautious than usual, practically hugging the wall as I made my way over.

At the well, I tied the basket holding two piece of bread to the rope with practiced hands, then slowly lowered it down.

Just as the basket was about to hit the bottom, I heard the faint rattling of chains coming from deep in the well.

My hand shook with fear. I nearly dropped the rope.

I held my breath, listening hard.

I was trying to confirm if someone was down there and whether she was alive.