Despite having the day off from working in town, Iona had decided to keep herself busy with work anyway. A customer had requested quite the lovely dress. But it was also a little more complicated, as it required different fabrics, intricate designs and stones. The stones were the worst of it. They varied in shapes and sizes, but each one had to be placed in the perfect spots, one by one. It was the most time consuming and tedious. Luckily for her, she had the patience required to make such a difficult piece. And it helped to have a passion for making it the most stunning dress her customer ever lay their eyes upon. It was white, the color meant for a virgin bride. The sweetheart top was shimmering with diamonds along the hem and swirling downward to the tiny waist. The skirt was silk, but beneath were layers and layers of thinner, lighter fabrics to make the skirt flare, and poofy.
But alas, her hands were beginning to grow weary of hours of working. And her back was aching. A break was greatly needed. So she put the dress away, hanging it in the closet beneath the stairs. And all of her threads and needles and things used for adornment were stored in a chest where she kept all of her various fabrics.
She’d already taken care of the household chores. So with the sun setting, it was time to make her evening meal. While water was left to heat in the cauldron over the fireplace, she peeled, washed and chopped potatoes and carrots. They were the first to be done, for they required the most time to cook. When those were put into the cauldron, she prepared peas, green beans, and corn. The meat she’d chosen was beef—it was cut into small, bite sized pieces. She threw it all together with minced onions and garlic for a little extra flavor. Lastly, the tomato juice was added, turning the water a deep shade of orange-red. Slowly, she swirled the spoon to stir it all together, cooking the meat and vegetables evenly while merging all flavors into one.
Then, there was a knock on the door.
Iona glanced over her shoulder in an attempt to look through the little window in the door. But from her distance, the view was unclear. Swiftly she cleansed her hands and opened the door warily with a quiet “Hello?”
It was a man. A very strong looking man. His long ginger tresses were like fire, with eyes akin to a certain purple bloom. He made haste to request shelter before she could utter a single word. He seemed quite eager. She blinked as she was taken aback by the sudden inquiry. Iona knew that allowing this man into her home could put her life and well being at risk. Men had wanted nothing but one thing from her in the past, which more than often resulted in it being taken from her. However, whether or not this man knew of the rumors she started within the town, those proclaiming her to be an evil witch, she had one thing going for her: she never used her magic outside of her own home. Yes, she was believed to be a witch, but only because she started the rumor. There was no proof. No one had seen her use any form of magic, so it was easy for many to dismiss the claim.
If he tried anything, she could have the element of surprise. And she isn’t the magical novice she once was. She was more than capable of protecting herself.
She smiled softly, although it turned out a little more wary than she’d intended. “I am not one to turn away a soul lost among these merciless woods,” she said, welcoming him into her warm home. “There is no need for payment. However, I only have one bedroom, so I regret to say my den will have to be your place of rest.” She glanced around the living room, taking note of where he might be able to sleep comfortably. There was little furniture aside from the rocking chair and a little loveseat—too small for a grown man to stretch his legs on. But there floor… There was much room before the hearth. But the floor was hardwood.
She lifted a single finger to silently tell him to give her a minute before she went off. The closet beneath the stairs was the only source of storage she had for situations such as this. Although she never suspected it might occur, she was prepared nonetheless. She took several large blankets, all folded neatly together, out of their storage bin and lay them down on the floor where he could sleep by the fire. The thickest blanket was on the bottom to soften the ground beneath him, while the thinnest was set on top. He wouldn’t need much warmth so close to the fireplace. And for his head, she used the little decorative pillows that had been on the loveseat.
With his sleeping arrangements made, she turned to him. “I am Iona,” she introduced herself with a curtsy of greeting.
