1 June, 1369. St Ivan's Palace, Havietten.
Celia found herself quietly knocking on the low timber door again, memories rushing back. It had been just over a year since she'd last stood in that very spot, she realised in amazement. In that time, a great many things had changed beyond recognition.
She knew she was one of those things that had changed so dramatically.
"Come in." the familiar, cheerful voice behind the closed door called out.
Celia slowly pushed the door open and ducked under the low lintel to pass through it.
She was back in the dim yet tidy room belonging to the witch.
Thea was sitting on her bed, looking exactly the same as Celia remembered and knitting a length of green wool. She smiled warmly when she saw the princess in her doorway but her cloudy gaze showed no surprise. It was as if she'd expected her.
Perhaps she knew all along that I'd be back, Celia thought with a wry smile.