Princess Interrupted by Michael A Rothman

Author:Michael A Rothman [Rothman, Michael A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780989089432
Publisher: M & S Publishing, L.L.C.
Published: 2013-09-30T04:30:00+00:00

Arabelle

Chapter Twelve

The Mysterious Herb Woman

“That young dwarf seems to have a good mind. I will find a use for him despite his timidity.”

Oda

Father sat back and patted his stomach as he let out a satisfied belch. “This was a very good stew, my dearest. And to think that only a few weeks ago your stew wasn’t even deemed edible by the sheep or the goats.”

“Hey! That was my first try! I’m allowed to make mistakes when learning, aren’t I?”

“Of course you are, my heart.” Then he sighed. His eyes glistening.

Arabelle leaned forward. “What’s wrong?”

Father pulled at his moustache and for a moment, he seemed to be elsewhere. “I just wish your mother could see you now. She would be just as proud of you as I am. You are growing rapidly into a woman.” With a conspiring look, Father leaned in and whispered, “In truth, your stew is much better than your mother’s ever was.”

The compliment warmed her with a feeling of accomplishment. “Really? You aren’t simply saying that?”

He shook his head. “Why do you think your mother hired Janius Mizmer? Your mother knew her own cooking skills weren’t very good, so she found someone with such skills.”

“Mother hired Madam Mizmer? Really? Well, I simply tried to follow her recipe and only made a few changes.”

Arabelle thought about the recipes she’d read, and wondered what she should try to make next, when suddenly she remembered something I wanted to ask. Arabelle grabbed the bag she brought and rummaged through the books she’d recently been looking through. She retrieved the one with the odd drawings.

She opened the leather-bound drawing book that Father had shared with her years ago. It had been Mother’s, and Arabelle loved trying to draw some of the same pictures her mother had scribbled in the journal. Arabelle flipped to the right section and stared at the picture that she held in her hands.

It depicted an old crone with few teeth and growths along her chin. The hair seemed straw-like and completely unkempt. Despite many of the frightening elements of this woman’s countenance, mother had surrounded her with a series of wavy lines like a glowing aura. It gave the old woman a mysterious, almost divine look.

Last night, she’d been staring at the woman’s picture when she for no apparent reason decided to use her inner sight on the old woman. Arabelle was shocked when she detected the strong pulse of the presence not far away. She needed to know more about this woman.

“Father, who is that? Mother drew lots of pictures, but I see this old woman on many of her pages. Is she a relation?”

Father studied the picture and nervously twirled his moustache. “Only after your mother and I were betrothed did I encounter that woman. Your mother and that woman had a relationship I never understood. I never pried, and your mother never volunteered information about her.”

“Who is she?”

With a bemused expression, he shrugged. “I doubt she’s alive, for she seemed ancient when I met her long before you were born.

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