Page 3 of The Pebbled Path

But her eyes did not leave the vision of beauty before them, a vision she appeared to dislike intensely. He would not countenance such rudeness.

“You must apologize,” he insisted. “I mean to stay here from now on, and you must not be rude.”

“Stay here? You cannot,” Gretel said. “We have a house of our own. We are visiting the village.” She looked back to the beautiful woman once more, revulsion filling her expression. “We must go.”

“You must go.” He knew it to be the truth the moment he said the words. Gretel did not belong, but he did. He always had, always would. “I will remain here with this enchanting and beautiful woman.”

“Beautiful?” Gretel repeated the word as if it made no sense. “Do you think she is beautiful?”

Could she not see what was right there before her? “No one has ever been more beautiful.” He returned his gaze to the vision before him, determined to never look away again.

His daughter and his newfound love continued to speak to each other, though the longer he stood there, the less he cared what they said. All that mattered was remaining in his love’s company and doing whatever she asked him to do.

“You are a witch,” Gretel said.

The woman laughed lightly. “An enchantress. There is a difference.”

“What do you mean to do to him?”

For a moment, his enchantress looked at him, and his heart sped with hope. But she looked away again, back to Gretel. “We are to have supper together.”

“And tomorrow?” Gretel pressed.

“We will have supper again, then again the next day, and the next, for however long it takes.”

“However long what takes?”

Again, a golden eyebrow reached upward. “You ask a great many questions, child.”

“I suspect you intend to kill my papa,” Gretel said. “That entitles me to a few questions.”

He adjusted his position so the beautiful woman upon whose favor he depended remained in his sight.

“You have pluck,” she said to Gretel. “I like that. And you are young, able-bodied.”

He did not like that she had lost interest in him. His very purpose was to bring this beauty whatever might give her joy, but she had turned away from him. “Dearest one.”

“Hush,” she instructed.

He immediately and silently vowed not to speak again until he was bidden to do so.

Once again speaking to Gretel, she said, “You are also clever. Not many realize so quickly the fate that awaits men who arrive at my door.”

“Only men?” Gretel asked.

She shrugged a shoulder. “An oddity of the magic. Still, it does make things more fun.”

“That does not sound like fun.”

The woman laughed. How he wished he had been the one to make her laugh.

“I might be willing to spare your father,” she said, still to Gretel. Would she never speak to him again? The possibility spread fear in his heart. “You would have to do something for me, though.”

“What would I have to do?” The girl did not even seem to be enjoying their conversation. How could she not realize the privilege it was to have this woman’s attention? He would have given anything to have it back.

“I am in need of a servant,” she said. “Someone to fetch water and firewood, clean the house, care for the gardens.”

“You are offering a trade? My servitude for his life?”