First Class: The Turkish Baths
She wasn't a princess in the traditional sense. Exiled from the kingdom, she was more apt to hide than to reign, but when it came down to it, she was perfectly fine with that. Some people were made to rule, others made to follow, and then there were people like her who lived on the fringe and did neither. Living took enough out of her, after all, without ruling or following to make it more complicated.
But just because she wasn't a princess who flaunted her title didn't mean she didn't occasionally enjoy being treated like one. So bare feet, dirtied from the forest, carried her to the first class floor, the smell of the water pulling her closer, step by step. The sounds of laughter surrounded her, pulling a smile from her, the soft lights, flickering and dancing, calming in their own way.
So the princess made of snow and the good things in the world took a seat at the edge of one of the baths. Her skirt was hoisted up, revealing a pale expanse of creamy flesh, and without regard to what anyone else might think (something far removed from her normally), she swung her legs over and into the bath, warm water closing over them, sweeping away some of the aches and pains the world offered up to people.