Page 28 of Once Upon a Woven Wish
She realized she was holding the needle and thread and staring into space.She blinked to clear the thoughts from her head and focused on her father.She managed a smile.
“Lost in thought.”
Maris cut her a sideways glance before returning to her own sewing.Her father returned to his book.Serena focused on the tattered cover and the faded gold embossed lettering of the title.Folklore and Fairy Tales.
Idly, she wondered if there was something in that book to help her break the stranger’s curse.
She shoved the thought away as she stuck the needle into the fabric of her cloak.There were no answers in a book about fairy tales that could help her.A knock sounded on the cabin door.Immediately, Serena’s heart clawed its way to her throat.Papa snapped his book closed and rose to answer it while Maris continued her sewing by the fire.
The Grand Duke stood on the other side of the door.Tall and lean, snow dotted the shoulders of his thick fur-lined cloak which was draped like a mantle of command.His black hair was slicked back from his high forehead.No hair was out of place.Steel-gray eyes peered out of an angular face with high cheekbones giving the air of aristocracy.A thin mouth gave the impression he seldom smiled.
“Your grace.”Her father bowed.“You honor us with your visit.”
Maris dropped her needlework and shot to her feet, her eyes alight with surprise.Serena, her breathing shallow, slowly rose and placed her cloak in the seat of her chair.
“Master Windriver, is it?”
“Yes, your grace.”He stepped aside.“Please come in out of the cold.Would you like tea?”
He ordered his guards to wait outside in the snow as he stepped into their small cabin.His posture was impeccable, his stance authoritative.He pulled off his cloak with a flourish, the snow falling to the floor around him and immediately melting.He handed off the cloak to Papa with practiced precision as her father closed the door, then hung up the cloak.
He removed his gloves, his sharp assessing gaze taking in the confines of their small cabin.It was clear the man missed nothing.
“Tea, yes.”
“I’ll fetch it,” Serena said, glad to escape the tiny living room.The air had become oppressive.
“My daughter, Serena,” Papa said.“And my youngest, Maris.”
The Grand Duke nodded, the only acknowledgement.“There’s talk in the village about your family.”
With shaking hands, Serena prepared the tea, thankful the kettle was still on and warm.She poured it into the porcelain teapot that was her mother’s, then arranged four cups, the sugar bowl, and the creamer.
“Folks like to talk, your grace.I’m afraid there’s not much else to do during winter.”There was a smile in her father’s voice as he tried to disarm him.
But the Grand Duke was not to be disarmed.His expression remained hard and unrelenting.“Nevertheless, word made it to his majesty, the king.That’s why I’m here.That taxman reports you paid in full.Curious, when your family is said to have so little.”
He punctuated that with another glance around the cabin.No doubt noticing their worn and scuffed furniture.
Serena carried the tray into the living room as Papa offered the Grand Duke his chair.His booted feet left puddles of melted snow across the floor.When he sat, his flinty gaze moved from Maris to her.
She placed the tray on the low table between the chairs.He watched with feigned interest as she poured the tea then handed him the cup.
“Cream or sugar, your grace?”she asked.
He waved it away.Then to Papa, he said, “His majesty is keen to know how you were able to pay the taxes not only for yourself but for the other family.”
Tense silence stretched.Serena busied herself with pouring another cup and handed it to Maris with a warning look.She prayed to the stars above her sister remained mute.Maris took the cup, holding it between shaking hands.
“A bountiful harvest, your grace,” Papa said.“And my daughter is a fine huntress.She traded pelts for the gold.”
“Is that so?”He peered at her over the edge of the cup, the steam rising from the tawny liquid.
Serena poured more tea and handed it to Papa.He waved it away.She plastered on a smile.“Indeed, it is.”
“You're telling me you sold animal skins to raise enough money?”
“Yes, your grace,” Serena said.
