The Crystal Heart by Sophie Masson

… We’ll use water from the spring for washing and drinking – the best I’ve ever had – and there’s an outhouse behind the cottage. Tomorrow I’ll make some traps so that we can have fresh meat.’
    â€˜Kasper, please don’t worry,’ I said quietly. ‘I may be a princess, but I’ve not lived in a palace for a long time. This house – I know we can make it cosy, and outside … outside is lovely. I like it here very much.’
    His eyes lit up. ‘Really?’
    â€˜Really,’ I echoed. ‘So what would you say was the first task we have to tackle?’
    A flicker of surprise crossed his face. ‘Gathering wood. But you don’t have to do anything. You’re high-born, so –’
    â€˜Stop right there or you’ll make me very cross,’ I said firmly. ‘High-born or not high-born, if we are to stay here, I refuse to be idle. You know how to do a lot of things, and I do not, but I can learn if you’ll teach me. Will you?’
    His handsome face was alive with laughter, his brown eyes sparkling. ‘Yes, of course. Whatever you like, Izolda.’
    â€˜Good,’ I said sharply, trying to hide the fact that my heart was going so fast it felt like at any moment it might leap out of my chest.

Kasper
    Sitting over our simple dinner that night, with the only light in the room being the flames of the crackling fire, I felt content. We had escaped. We were safe. There was food in our bellies and shelter over our heads. We talked a lot; at least, I talked a lot at first and she talked a little. By common unspoken consent, we left aside any mention of the island or what had happened there. Instead, I told stories about the woods, Fish-the-Moon and my family, and funny things that had happened to me as a boy.
    â€˜Being the only boy with two bossy older sisters wasn’t the easiest thing in the world,’ I said, ‘but they always told me I had it the wrong way round. Being older sister to a painful little brother who had to be taken everywhere – because Mother and Father were so busy in the restaurant – was, they said, by far the greater hardship, especially when that little brother eavesdrops on their conversations and thinks it’s hilarious to put snails in their beds!’
    Izolda clapped a hand over her mouth in mock horror. ‘You didn’t really do that, did you?’
    â€˜Well, only once, not the many times they always claimed,’ I confessed. ‘And it was a very small snail. Plus, it had almost reached the floor by the time they found it.’
    She burst out laughing. ‘I’m sure that made it a whole lot better!’
    â€˜It was kind of me, I agree,’ I said, thrilled that my silly story had made her laugh so much, ‘because after all, it was only payback for them telling Mother and Father I’d kicked my ball through the scullery window!’
    Izolda laughed again. ‘Oh, Kasper, you must have been a real terror of a little boy!’
    â€˜I hope I was. Being good makes for a dull childhood, don’t you think?’
    â€˜I suppose it does,’ said Izolda, sobering suddenly, the haunted expression back in her eyes. I could have kicked myself for being so foolish. She’d not had the luxury of being naughty. Her childhood had been taken from her.
    â€˜I’m sorry, Izolda. I didn’t mean …’
    â€˜I know you didn’t,’ she said. ‘It’s quite all right. I – I love hearing about these things. Please tell me more.’
    So I did, and so the evening passed. I’d left a little scrap of dinner in the darkest corner of the room to placate the domevoy , who I knew would be watching us from his hidey-hole. It’s important, with domevoys , to make friends with them as soon as you move into a house. Otherwise, there could be all sorts of trouble, as they are famously prickly and easily take offence. But