by H L Muller
"Uh, are you sure? I don't want to set the forest alight or anything. Are you sure you can trust me?" trying and failing to conceal my anxiety.
"How are you going to learn something, if you never do it, Darlin'?" He asks, his deep rumbling voice warming me up inside. Walking over, I watch his hands, as he shows me how to use the tools. Handing me the flint and steel, I follow his steps and attempt to light the fire. I am a perfectionist, it came with the territory of being a Princess, I suppose. Frustrated, I struggled, using the striking stone as Ika had instructed, with no spark. Suddenly, Ika wraps his body around mine, his hands holding mine around the tools. I loosen my grip on the tools, assuming he was going to take over.
Instead, surprising me, he tightens my hands around the tools. "Hold them like this, Darlin'." He whispered into my ear. "Just relax, move your wrist like this," he instructs while moving my hands and arms as he needs. Finally, the flint and steel hit the right way and creates a spark settling the kindling alight.
"Oh, my gosh," I breathe out. "I did it!" I squeak unflatteringly. I turn inside his arms that are still wrapped around me and hug him. "Thank you! Thank you for letting me try, for teaching me."
"Yeah you did, Darlin', and s'ok." He pulls back and I can see shock written all over his face. Dropping his arms, he turns and heads towards the fish.
“The fire needs time to take and heat up, while we wait for that I am going to prepare the fish so we can cook that for dinner.” Ika explains, relishing how he doesn’t condescend me but explains what he is doing in a helpful and instructive manner. Returning to the fire, Ika goes about setting some sticks into the ground that he explains he will use to cook. We don’t talk as he prepares the fish; I close my eyes and take a deep breath, falling to a short meditation and enjoying the sounds of the forest around us and the crackling fire.
"I am sure that this is nothing like the fine foods you’re probably used to, Trudy. Plain fish cooked over a campfire cannot really compare to much of the rich folks' food. It will be enough to rid you of your hunger tonight, and we will have you dining back in splendour soon enough. Think of this as an adventure. How can you really know the quality of fine foods, if you haven't tasted what the commoners eat, aye?" He talks plainly without a hint of contempt or anger at the fact that I wouldn't have eaten like this before. It’s like he can read my mind and know what I had left my Palace for.
"Yes," I reply wryly, meeting his gaze, "an adventure indeed."
"How about a campfire story as we cook and eat?" I am assuming he wants to torture me some more by telling me a scary story. Or hoping I will chicken out before he even started.
"Go ahead," I challenge.
"Have you heard the story of the Mystery Princess?" he asks me, while rotating the fish over the fire.
"No. I have not." I reply uncertainly.
Offering me a small smile he begins the story, "Four autumns past, Prince Charming was celebrating his twenty-first birthday in royal fashion with an extravagant ball. For decades, the Kingdom of Daes have been close with his Father, and everyone was expecting an announcement to be made at the ball, of Prince Charming's engagement to the Princess of Daes, Gertrude Daes." m
"What do you mean four autumns past?!" I exclaim, cutting him off abruptly. Did Ika suspect who I am and was trying to get me to admit it? That only happened a few months ago, not years. Is he trying to catch me in my lie about who I am?
Ika looks at me with a hard, inquisitive look. "What day is it, Trudy?"
"It's the first day of spring." I reply rolling my eyes.
"How old is Prince Charming?"
"Twenty-one, in the autumn just gone, not four years ago."
Ika's eyes go wide, "How long were you lost in the woods for, Trudy?"
"Uh, a couple of hours? I left Adaira at about one in the afternoon. I needed to ensure I had enough time to travel to get home for tea. You can see how well that plan worked out." I add while waving my hand at the camp around us.
"I have something to tell you. You will think I am crazy, and I don't blame you for it. You will realise I am telling the truth when we get back to your house.” He pauses. “The Silent Wood is cursed.”
I break out in laughter. “Sure, it is, and this is not just another campfire story to try and scare me.” I interject sarcastically.
"Listen, woman! It is cursed. When you are trapped in the forest, time goes slower for you, but continues at a normal rate outside. It has never been confirmed what the exact difference is, but we find it works out to roughly one year for every half an hour in the forest. I would hazard a guess and say you entered that forest at least four years ago. Given that King Charming has been married for four years now and is now King when you think him a Prince, I think it is safe to assume I am right." He looks both smug at being right and conflicted at the information that I have essentially been trapped in a forest for four years.
"You're right." I admit. "You are completely insane. How can you say such fantastical things? Where do you create it? I don't imagine you as much of a storyteller."
"Fine, woman," Ika replies, not attempting to conceal his agitation and anger. "You do not need to believe me, when you return home you will see that I was right, and that everyone probably assumes you have been missing for four years, dead, or do you not have anyone to return home to? Do you not have anyone that would be concerned that you have been missing for four years?" He is trying to aggravate me, to trick me into telling him more about myself. His words strum a chord in me. If he is right, would my family be wondering about where I have been? Would they think I ran away or had died? Shaking myself from those thoughts I remind myself that Ika is crazy and I have only been gone a day. Even still, with being gone for a day would they have noticed?
"What about you then? You were alone in that cabin of yours. Don't you have anyone who cares about you? You didn't need to say goodbye to anyone before we left or make any arrangements to check on your household or any livestock. So, either you have no one, or hidden servants."
"I live alone. I prefer my solitude. I have been alone since my father died when I was eighteen, seven years ago. I do not require any servants. I don't have any animals at my cabin, as I don't need any. I don't run a farm or need to have any livestock; I don't grow produce or need anything for farming. Where is your home, by the way? You never said anything other than you were heading to the main market."
I look away from his face, and those prying bright eyes. What am I thinking? I know he will eventually find out who I am, but I don’t want him to know yet. I have enjoyed being free of my title and the weight that comes with it. Putting it off as much as possible will bite me when he finds out, but I don't want to be there when he realises who I am. I don't want to see the reaction it brings. Will he be shocked? Will he turn into one of those fools who fall over themselves in my presence? I couldn't tell why it is important for me that he knows who the real Trudy is. It has been in the back of my mind since we met, and I am determined for him to not know who I am until he knows the woman behind the title.
"You will find out when we get there." I respond in a vain attempt to delay the inevitable "That is, if it is still there. If what you have to say is true and I have been missing for four years, maybe my home will not be there anymore. It could have new occupants, or my family may not want me back and will cast me away to never return as they have been happy the last four years without me."
He looks at me, those vibrant green eyes showing pity, concern and another emotion I can’t place. I have never seen it in someone's eyes before to be able to identify it.
The fish is finally ready, and Ika pulls out one of his many knives, cutting the skin and scales off the fish, handing me a skinned and headless fish on a stick. I have never eaten something so basic in my life, or anything without cutlery. I watch Ika as he holds his fish with both hands on the stick and begins eating. Copying him, I take a small mouthful of fish, careful to ensure that I don’t overfill my mouth, and that no jui
ces are caught on my face or dripping onto my clothing.
"Mmmmmmm," I moan, as the first bite passes my lips. I look up and catch Ika's gaze. "This is delicious!" His eyes drop to my mouth as my tongue darts out to lick up the remaining juice. "How does this taste so good? You didn't do anything to it, but cook it on the fire?" I ask, taking another mouthful. Normally the fish I have at the Palace or luncheons are covered in herbs and oils. It still tastes great, but this fire cooked fish by Ika is so much better.
Realising that Ika has not spoken, my eyes flick to him, noticing he is frozen and is staring at me. "What?" I question abruptly “Do I have something on my face?” reaching my hand up to wipe my face.
His head flies back, as if woken from a daydream, shaking his head he finally looks away from me. "Uh, sorry, I was lost in my own head. What did you ask me?"
I giggle softly. "I do that all the time, too. Pull on a thread of thought and find myself lost unravelling it in my own mind. It's how I got lost in the woods, actually." I confess to him, "I was lost in my own thoughts and not paying attention to where Stormy was walking. When I learnt how to ride as a child, I was taught how to tell directions and time by the sun's point in the sky. Once I realised, I was lost, I wasn't able to see the sky anymore, so I couldn't find which direction I needed to head in. Then I found a clearing that was big enough for me to see the sky, and your cabin. And here we are," I say with a small smile. He had kept eating as I spoke, his fish now finished. "So, Ika," I start, "tell me about what you do. You said you don't have any livestock or produce farming, so what do you do in a cabin all alone in the woods?"
"I am a lumberjack and a woodcarver." His voice husky, still not making eye contact with me since... since I moaned? Is that right? He lost himself in his own head staring at me just after I moaned and complimented him on his food. Had I distracted him? I moan again while taking another bite of my fish, testing out to see his reaction. His eyes snap back to my mouth as he watches me chew and swallow. The thought that his man can be as captivated by me as I am by him makes me feel giddy, no matter how stupid it is to want that.
Twelve
"What's a lumberjack?" I ask while a smug grin stretches my face, the fact that my moaning could have an effect on this hulking, amazing specimen of a man, trills me.
"I harvest, carve and transport trees and sell to carpenters for houses, buildings, transport like carriages and wagons, furniture and such." Thankfully, he doesn’t sound annoyed at having to explain his profession to me, he must encounter a lot of people who don't know what a lumberjack is, or he has a lot of patience for me. Perhaps he resents that someone who clearly has a good education and upbringing, doesn’t know that lumberjacks existed, and he sought to rectify that.
"Are you not too far away from other people in your cabin? Would you not need to be somewhere closer to villages and towns to then sell your wares?"
"I need to be close to the forest. That is where the trees are, where the work is. I make trips into villages throughout the spring, summer and autumn months to sell any wood that I have. My father was a well-known lumberjack in these parts, and many of the townspeople remember that and know who I am. I am often sought out and given orders to fill, rather than having to source someone to purchase what I have already cut and prepared."
"Where does the 'woodcarver' come into the work?"
"It is something I do more for fun and extra money on the side. I need to do an element of carving to prepare the wood for the buyer. Removing bark, branches and such. It then developed into something to fill the nights and winter months. I started when I was thirteen years old, learning how to use a carving knife to make things out of off cuts of wood. I got so good, some of my work was purchased and on display in the galleries of Adaira."
"I saw a few carvings when I visited the gallery. There was a beautiful bust carving, that was you?"
He nods, "Yes that bust was of my mother, I carved it from memory of her face after she passed away when I was seventeen."
No wonder he was gruff and broody sometimes, he has been alone for a long time. Suddenly, an idea hits me. I want art works, and I am going to speak with Mr Smithers about contacting artists, and here one is in front of me.
"Do you do commissions? Would you be able to carve something for me? I don't have any wood carvings in my collection, I would be honoured if you would create something for me. It can be anything you like, I don't much care for the subject. I prefer more imagining why the artist chose subjects, materials and the emotions and thoughts behind artworks. I could pay you." The words rapidly fall out of me, speaking so fast they I barely took a breath. I don’t want to beg, but I felt like I was about to start. With a jolt, I realise that I want a physical memory of Ika. I want something to keep a hold of once I return to life as Princess Gertrude, too look back and know that it was real. That he was real, and I was able to be real with him.
"No." He responds flatly. "I have not carved in four years." Sadness radiates off him, as pain crinkles across his face, lost in a memory.
"I am going to take Stormy to the creek for some water," giving him time to compose himself. While Stormy drinks, I pat her down again, ensuring she is comfortable after the long day's travel.
"How did we get here Stormy?" I never thought when I left the Palace this morning that I would end up camping overnight with a lumberjack. I still can’t undecide if this is a good thing or not. "At least we got our adventure."
I return to the campsite with Stormy and tie her back up. Turning to face the fire, Ika has placed out the lumpy rolled material I had seen him unpack earlier. "Bedrolls, you sleep in it," Ika explains. I watch him studying my face. Exhausted, I school my expression and sit down on the vacant bedroll, removing my shoes and placing them next to me.
"Good night, Ika," settling down into my bedroll.
He doesn’t respond, just sat there staring at the fire. Just as I start to drift into sleep, I thought I heard him mumble, "Too sweet and beautiful for her own good."
Thirteen
IKA
I sit there staring at her sleeping figure like a creep. How can this woman be so unique and beautiful? Her reaction to me at the stream and the fire puzzles me, drawing me in closer to who this woman is. She is blunt, honest, strange and odd. I have never met anyone like Trudy, and I don’t know what to do.
I have not carved anything in years, it has always been an emotional venture for me. After what happened in Adaira, I have not able to bring myself to pick up the tools. Looking at Trudy now, I’m itching to carve the shape of her sleeping form. To enable me to keep a part of her with me after she returned to her life. Trudy probably thought I was crazy, spouting things about mystery Princesses and the cursed forests. It is hard to tell how long she has been missing for. I truly hope that she is able to return to her house and life tomorrow without too many changes. I can tell she thought I have lost my mind; I am happy to let her live in that delusion for now. It will fall soon enough and arguing with her over who is right isn’t going to change the outcome of her return.
Giving in, I pick up a large branch from the pile of firewood Trudy had collected earlier and pull my knife out of my boot. To not wake her, I quietly reacquaint myself with the feel of my knife against the wood and begin stripping the wood of its bark. Muscle memory taking over, I lose track of the time as I clean and carve the branch. Allowing my mind to float away, thinking of Trudy arriving on my doorstep this afternoon.
The first thing that assaulted me was her chocolate brown eyes, the same shade as her long hair. They pulled me in, drowning me in their depths. She looked travel worn and exhausted, but those eyes could still scorch me if she tired. I have never had a woman be as direct and demanding of me, she knew what she needed and would not stop until she got it.
My fingers take over as an image comes to life on the wood in my hands. Looking down at the object in my hands, I am shocked my mind has produced such a form. I thought I wanted to carve something for myself, to keep as a
memory. Surprisingly, I have carved something for Trudy.
I stand from my bedroll and walk to her saddle. Being careful not to make any noises that would wake Trudy, I place the carving in one of the bags on her saddle. I hope that when she eventually finds the carving, it will bring a smile to her face, even if I am not there to see it. The thought of Trudy having a piece of me, sinks deep into my heart and warms me up. Wishing I could somehow give her more of me. She now has something to remember me and this little adventure by. Gathering all the wood pieces I add them to the fire before returning to my bedroll and bunking down inside. It will be hard to fall asleep tonight, with a beautiful stranger at my side out in the open wilderness. I haven’t had a night like this in a long time, and I am starting to think the change in routine might be good for me.
Fourteen
PRINCESS GERTRUDE
I wake with the sun shining brightly in my eyes. It takes me a moment to remember that I am not in my bed at the Palace but am camping with a near stranger. A handsome, standoffish stranger. Sitting up slowly, I look over to where his bed roll is and find him flat on his back, mouth open and jaw slack, softly snoring. He looks adorable in sleep. All the harshness and stress has left his face, and he looks at peace for the first time since I met him.
Deciding it is a good time for me to go and bathe in the creek I quietly get out of my bedroll and pick up my boots. Grabbing the cake of soap Ika had left out for me on his bag and walking barefoot down to the creek, this time taking the effort to walk slowly and conceal any noise my footsteps could make to stir Ika. I have never bathed in the open before and the thought of it is exhilarating and slightly terrifying. Knowing that Ika is asleep and unlikely to wake up and watch me is even more motivation to go now before he can come looking for me. I strip off quickly and jump into the fresh cold water.