A few hours and a few new scratches later, I was sitting on a stone bench near the waterfall waiting for Rafael.
The staff had found me wandering out of the thickets with my scratched arms and torn dress and had made a big fuss as they ushered me into the baths to get cleaned and bandaged.
I was then warned about not wandering off into strange areas and destroying my pretty dresses.
Since my arms were covered in bandages, one of the ladies-in-waiting found a long-sleeved version of the flouncy, frilly thing that I had just ripped to shreds and threw that over my head.
It was a soft dusky pink, one of those colors that looked great on the hanger but made me feel like a walking human floss of cotton candy.
Still, I could not complain. They were doing their best to take care of me, so I wore what they gave me and I smiled as my face was made up and my hair was being rolled and pinned up into cascading curls.
