Page 36 of Once Upon an Enchanted Kiss

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.”

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