Chapter 15

T he cabin was large with yellow light glowing in the windows and a chimney that had gray smoke curling upward into the night sky. As they approached, apprehension swept through Rosamund. Her gut clenched. There was no explanation for that reaction since the old woman seemed to want to help.

She looked at Edward to gauge his reaction, but it was difficult to see his expression in the shadows. She shoved away those irrational feelings and decided to accept the help from the old woman for what it was—a kind offer.

At the cabin, the woman shoved open the door. Light slashed from the doorway, outlining her hunched silhouette.

“Ye can leave yer horses here.” She pointed to the left of the door. Then she waved them inside. “Come in, come in. Warm yeselves by the fire.”

She bustled inside and waited for them to enter before closing the door with a snap behind them. Inside, a fire blazed in the hearth, warming the room and chasing the chill from Rosamund’s bones. The furniture was well-worn but looked comfortable. Two chairs were on either side of the fireplace. A near threadbare rug was on the wood slated floor. Toward the back of the cabin was a loft with a narrow, winding staircase leading upward.

In the kitchen, a scarred wooden table with four chairs. The old woman bustled about, humming a low tune to herself as she prepared the meal she promised.

Edward moved toward the fireplace, extending his hands to warm them. But Rosamund remained in place as she watched the woman in the kitchen. That eerie sensation something was amiss did not want to leave her.

The old woman placed two bowls on the table, then returned to the kitchen and brought a small platter with fresh baked bread. Seeing that made Rosamund’s stomach rumble with such force, she was almost faint.

“As promised.” She waved to the table. “Food for ye.”

Rosamund glanced at Edward. Their eyes met for a brief moment before he moved toward the table and took a seat in front of one of the bowls. She followed his lead and sat next to him, gazing down at the bowl of what appeared to be potato and leek soup. He took up his spoon and dug in with enthusiasm.

“Do ye not like it, m’dear?” the old woman asked when she noticed she wasn’t eating.

“Oh.”

The word came out in a roughened whisper. She grabbed her spoon and stuck it in the bowl, aware of the woman’s watchful gaze. She took a taste.

“It’s delicious,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Good, good!” Then she was back in the small kitchen. She put a pot on to boil. “’Tis much better than sleeping in the woods, aye?”

“Your hospitality is quite generous,” Edward said around a mouthful. He reached for the bread and tore a piece off, then dunked it in the soup.

“Och, it’s the least I can do for two travelers who seemed to be lost and weary.” She paused what she was doing to turn around and look at them both, her eyes narrowed in a sharp squint. “Ye are lost, aren’t ye? No one ventures into these woods with purpose.”

They both stared at her in stunned silence. Finally, Edward replied.

“We’re not lost. Merely passing through.”

The kettle whistled then. She pulled it off the stove and poured the steaming water into two mugs, then brought them over to the table and dropped them down in front of them. The strong scent of bergamot wafted to her nose. Rosamond was so happy to have a cup of freshly brewed tea, she dropped her spoon and immediately reached for her cup. She held the mug under her nose, inhaling the scent as her eyes fluttered closed.

“Oh, my favorite,” she breathed.

The woman cackled with delight. “Good to hear it, dear.” Then to Edward, she said, “Passing through, eh? Where ye headed?”

Rosamund gave him a sideways glance. He seemed unflustered by the questions. “Wherever the wind takes us.”

She almost laughed at his reply and the subsequent crooked grin he flashed her.

“Ah, so ye are a bit of an adventurer, then.”

The woman brought her own bowl and mug to the table and took a spot across from him. The steam rose from her mug, curling upward in a bit of a white cloud.

“What are ye names?” she asked.

“I’m Edward,” he answered, before she could. “This is Rose. And you are?”

“Olga,” the woman said. Her eyes drifted from Edward back to her, narrowing a bit. “Rose, ye say?”

“Yes,” she replied on a breath, then took a sip of tea. “Your hospitality is quite generous, Olga.”

“’Tis nothing.” She dunked her spoon into the soup and slurped. “If yer looking for a bit of adventure, I hear there’s a dragon deep within a cave of these woods that guards a glittering treasure of immense wealth.” As Olga said this, broth dribbled down her chin.

“Treasure?” Edward sat straighter in his chair, his meal forgotten. “What sort of treasure?”

“Gold, jewels and the like,” the old woman said with a wave of her hand.

“I thought dragons were nothing more than myths,” Rosamund said.

“Not a myth, dearie,” Olga said. “I’ve seen the dragon meself.”

“Have you?” Edward sounded intrigued. He learned forward. “You know the treasure exists?”

“O’course, I do. I seen it with me own eyes.” She flashed a toothy grin, showing off stump teeth. Then dug back into the soup.

Edward sat back in the chair. His gaze drifted from the old woman to Rosamund. Deep in the honey color depths, she saw the glint of excitement. In fact, she felt that zing of excitement from him, almost as though she read his mind.

She shook her head to indicate she was not interested in chasing dragons or looking for treasure. He lifted one brow as if to reply she was missing out on the adventure for which she longed. Then she tipped her head to one side in a silent reply to tell him he was out of his mind.

“I see I’ve caught yer attention. I have a map to the cave. That is, if ye have an interest.”

Olga had witnessed the silent exchange and was clearly intent on encouraging the quest.

“I’m interested,” he said. “I’d like to see the map.”

Rosamund dropped her hand into her lap, clenching her fist. The thought of heading deeper into the forest looking for a dragon who likely protected its treasures with deadly force did not sound like a good idea to her.

Olga, however, grinned with triumph as she pushed her old body from the table and shuffled off to another room. Rosamund leaned toward him and dropped her voice to whisper.

“Do you think this wise?” she asked.

“Come now, princess. You said yourself you’d love a good adventure. I can’t think of a better one than to hunt a dragon and see if this treasure really does exist.” He flashed her a wicked grin.

Irritation simmered under the surface as she sat back in the chair, annoyed he flung her words back at her. She’d said that in a moment of dreamy hope, when she was still trying to figure out where she was going and what she was to do with the rest of her life. She had never expected to meet anyone to journey with, especially someone like Edward.

Though, she was starting to wonder who he truly was. Something told her he was hiding something, too. That perhaps he hadn’t been completely honest with her, either.

Telling the truth about who she was felt as though a load was lifted from her shoulders. She was grateful he didn’t want to hand her over to the soldiers. She paid close attention to his mannerisms and the way he spoke. He was definitely part of the nobility. Perhaps he was a lord from Woodhaven. But if he were, it did not explain why he traveled alone. A man of stature would have attendants. He did not.

And he had this insatiable need to chase the wind.

Was she so different?

As she pondered this, Olga shuffled back into the room with a rolled parchment clutched in one hand. She handed it over to Edward. He took it and shoved his bowl out of the way to unfurl it on the table in front of him. Rosamund stretched taller in her chair to get a good look at it.

Indeed, it was a map of Mystwood Forest with a trail leading right to a cave. He stared down at it, tracing his finger along the dotted line leading to the cave.

“In case yer wondering, yer not far from there.” Olga picked up his discarded bowl with an encouraging smile and headed back into the small kitchen.

“How far away?” he asked.

“I’d say you’d be there in…” She paused, tapping a gnarled finger against her jutting chin and hmmed as she made the calculation in her mind. “…a couple of days.”

“A couple of days,” Rosamund repeated.

She and Edward exchanged a glance and she wondered if he was thinking what she was thinking. Her birthday was in a couple of days. A wide grin spread upon his face.

“Perfect,” he said.

His eyes sparked with newfound resolve. Rosamund knew they were headed there in the morning.

“Mercy. Listen to me goin’ on. I better see to yer horses.”

Olga shuffled out of the cabin, leaving them alone. Rosamund sat back in her chair, her nerves jangling.

“I think we should do it,” he said.

“Raid a dragon’s cave for treasure?” She shook her head. “I think not.”

But he was not to be dissuaded. “Think of it. We can split the treasure between us. And I can’t think of a more perfect birthday present than that.”

Fear clenched her gut. “I can think of a better one.”

“What’s that?”

“Not getting dead,” she said. “Don’t you think this dragon will be guarding it’s treasure?”

“Of course,” he replied, nonchalantly. “That’s what makes it a grand adventure.”

“You’re crazy.”

Still peering down at the map, he answered, “I’ve been told.”

She pushed back from the table and rose, though she hadn’t any idea where to go. Realizing that, she sat once again and huffed out a breath. He lifted his head, finally, and met her gaze. His shoulders slumped as his determination melted away.

“Do you not wish to go then?” he asked.

She fiddled with the spoon she’d placed on the table by her bowl, her soup forgotten. Apprehension swept through her. It was the same feeling she had when she decided to run away from the castle. Yet she’d done it anyway. She pushed aside the fear and took the risk and made it away from the keep without anyone noticing.

Wasn’t this much the same thing? She was taking another risk. If she agreed, then it would be one more step further away from her old life. One more step away from being the princess she’d always been.

“I have a suggestion,” he said, his voice soft. “Sleep on it.”

Her gaze drifted back to his. “Sleep on it?”

“Yes. When I have a difficult decision to make, I like to sleep on it and decide in the morning.” He rolled up the map and sat back in the chair. “What do you say?”

Slowly, she nodded. “All right.”

Just as she said it, Olga bustled back inside. “Horses are fed. Och, ye must be tired from yer travels. Come on, then. I’ll show ye to yer room.”

“Room?” Rosamund asked.

She gave a toothy grin. “’Fraid I only have one.” She waved for them to follow.

Edward clutched the rolled-up map in his hand. They both got to their feet as she led them to the winding staircase at the back of the cabin.

“Up here,” she said, pointing. “Two beds. One fer each of ye. Be gone before daylight.”

“Why?” Rose asked, suspicious.

“Why, to find the treasure, o’course. Good night!”

Then she was off, disappearing into one of the other rooms of the cabin and closing the door with a snap.

They stood there, each of them in stunned silence, until at last he motioned for her to take the first step.

“After you, my lady,” he said.

She started up the stairs, trepidation following her.