Chapter 11

I can't escape the search party but neither does Snow come to save me. I'm not sure if he has witnessed my capture, but even if he has, attacking is probably not a good idea. This search party is large and armed to the teeth.

I'm hauled to my feet, dragged through the river and thrown at Felton's feet.

I'm in so much pain, I basically am an earth worm in the mud, wriggling around, trying to find a way to get up.

Felton is crying loudly, I can hear his breath, chopped and broken. He was grieving the loss of his family that died in the 'avalanche'.

"Please, have mercy, please," I grab onto Felton's legs, knowing that kind of cry, a rageful cry, after all, I was used to hearing it from my adopted father, "I'm so sorry about your br–"

I know that submission to Felton may grant me some form of pity.

I am dead wrong.

"My brother's dead because of you, disgusting wench!" Felton's boot slams into my face at least twice. By that stage I am hauled back to my feet again, my eyes closed from new bruises, I'm slammed in irons along the way and thrown onto the back of a donkey, with Felton screaming at me, "You'll face judgement back in the Valley!"

****

We're back in the Valley. I am barely coherent, I am exhausted, starving and in new pain. But I still have to face this judgement.

"Please state her crime, Felton," to my relief, the Judge in the Valley is the father of a family who used to comfort me, feed me, teach me and let me play with their children when I was younger. It may just save me more trouble.

"Ellie, you've slept with a poor man, a mercenary, who organised the death of your generous adoptive family, they signed their possessions into your name while they were dying! Then the lover you hold dear, caused an avalanche to hide the evidence of their bloody murders! So help me, I'll have my justice, by reclaiming my property," Felton nods to the Judge, "That is the crime. The evidence is the signature written in the throes of death – blood of my own kin splattered on the will. Ellie is also abused by the lover; more evidence, she was found naked and bruised in the forest. I also have a letter from the Queen herself," Felton storms up to the Judge and lays down the paper.

"…indeed…" the Judge goes pale as he reads it to himself, and then eventually he looks down at me, one cheek swollen, my eye black, "You've eloped with Snowred?"

"A myth, certainly," Felton shrugs, "Until the Queen confirms it in this letter. She who holds eyes in every corner of her Kingdom. I want my justice. I want it now."

"Snowred is a criminal and a fiend, Ellie, were you coerced by him?" the Judge asks me.

I look down.

I refuse to answer.

"Ellie," the Judge lowers his tone, "If you were, you were under coercion by a much stronger, older, warrior. A well experienced manipulator –"

"She is 20!" Felton snarls, "She knows who she succumbed to!"

"The myth of Snowred is 300 years old, Felton – she is but a child to someone like him who is known to live in the Ice Valley," the Judge shakes his head, "All charges are dismissed. Ellie is a free woman. But you will retain your property, Felton, as is your right. However, you cannot stop Ellie from living in the property – as it is her home just as much as it is legally in your family name. Do you understand? Felton?"

Felton lifts his chin. He'll take it. But he doesn't like it.

"Ellie has been abused by Snowred, look at the state of her. It is not something to blame her for, she is the victim here as well as you, Felton," the Judge shakes his head, "Ellie. You will receive free medical treatment for your abuse. Are you okay with that? Would you prefer the infirmary of shall I have a doctor come to your house?"

"My house," Felton whispers under his breath, glaring over at me.

"If there is trouble, I will hear of it," the Judge hisses at Felton, "Leave her out of your grief. I understand your pain, Felton, but you will not take it out on an innocent."

Felton nods and huffs off from the court.

Around me, the whole town seems to be inside this space. Watching this event.

An astounded silence greets my ears. They are invested in my story.

Everyone is watching me and I feel like I'm known to everyone now.

The girl who had slept with Snowred and lived to tell the tale, I guess that's what they thought.

"This session is over," the Judge speaks into the silence, now that Felton has left, "Give the girl some space and privacy. Out the back door, Ellie, now."

The Judge nods for me and I hold two sticks to help me walk.

Once out the back, an older woman, a nurse, intercepts me.

"The infirmary, dear?" she asks me.

"No, the house – I won't be scared from it," I murmur, "As the judge said, I'm allowed there."

Felton will not dare to hurt me now, anyway, as everyone will know if he does.

"Slowly now," the woman escorts me all the way.

And I tread in silence.

By the time I'm delivered, before I walk through the front door, Felton waits with his men on the porch.

"Keep the upkeep, girl," Felton speaks over me, as my head remains bowed, "You'll take care of it, won't you? The title is in my name," he holds out a piece of paper and waves it in my face, "My. Name. Not yours. You are here by default. So clean. And keep the upkeep. You've got the roof, it's all you deserve. Make your own food. Get your own job. But you'll never, ever, own my property."

It's the last thing I'm worrying about.

I nod meekly, as Felton scoffs and heads off while I hobble through the door.

I collapse onto a rocking chair.

The same chair I was on, before Snow came in and took me away.

From Felton. But here I am, ironically, back where I began.

The nurse helps tend to my smaller wounds, but an hour later, a doctor arrives and tends to my bruises and abrasions. Armed with salves, covered in bandages, and left to boil a herbal tea to help with the swelling in my face, I am finally left alone.

In my house.

Even though it's not in my name.

I look around; and somehow I am happy with the outcome regardless.

I do have somewhere to live after all.

I don't have to return to the forest. I don't have to return to uncertainty and the prospects of certain doom.

I had some form of comfort in knowing I had a bed now. A proper bed.

And when I glance out the window, onlookers pass by pointing into the windows, showing their friends or their children.

However, no one disturbs me, and I feel rather infamous.

Well – I almost feel like a princess in a way.

Just a silly thought.

I think of Snow. An ex-King.

I wonder if he ever got me that food and I decide, if he does drop by for a visit, perhaps he'd like some tea.