To Hunt a Ruby Remedy: A Grumpy/Sunshine Little Red Riding Hood Novella

Seven - Scarlette

I watched Ranulfleave and wondered what was going through his mind. He had stopped treating me as an interloper. Even when he snapped at me this morning, I knew I wasn’t the target of his anger. Somehow, we had jumped right past neutrality, too. The way Ranulf had insisted that I sleep in the attic room, his worry over leaving me alone with Gideon, it had me imagining futures I shouldn’t.

I might have become something other than an annoyance in his eyes, but it wouldn’t last. Once Gideon moved on, and Ranulf no longer felt responsible for protecting me, he’d go back to his previous moods. Just because I came out ahead of the egotistical hunter didn’t mean I’d still look good in comparison to solitude.

Ranulf didn’t pretend otherwise. Even with everything else going on, he planned to work on my mother’s charm so that I could leave as soon as possible. I was grateful. I was. I just wished it didn’t feel like a dismissal.

Gideon exited the guest room armed, but without his chain mail, shortly after the bread finished baking. He looked around the room, saw we were alone, and smirked.

That smirk had me wondering if Ranulf’s worries had merit. Perhaps I had misjudged the huntsman. Then his expression turned sly, and I knew his interest in me wasn’t physical at all.

He approached the table. “There’s still a half-silver in it for you if you tell me what you know about the dragon. That bitch back in Wulfkin will never know.”

I shook my head. “I’m a visitor to the forest, here for a healing charm. You know more than I.”

“Then get the information from the healer. He knows something.” Gideon leered at me. “I’m sure you could convince him to spill his secrets. I don’t care how you get the information, so long as you share it with me.”

Perhaps Ranulf wasn’t entirely wrong about the hunter. I doubted he’d expected Gideon’s interest to take this turn, however. I shook my head once more. “I’m not sleeping with him.”

The hunter considered me for a moment, then rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll throw in another half-silver.”

“I’m not going to sleep with him because you pay me a half-silver!”

He looked me up and down. “You aren’t worth more than that.”

Affenala save me. The urge to slap the man left me trembling, but I knew better. I might have judged myself safe, but not if I provoked him. Alone, I had no hope of protecting myself if he decided on violence in retaliation. I slipped a hand into my pocket, but the protective enchantment Ranulf had given me was an unknown. What if the shock only enraged him? How long would it last?

I should have asked Ranulf more questions about it, but I had been so sure that Gideon had no interest in me that I hadn’t felt the need. And I was right. I should be thankful he was more interested in making me sleep with Ranulf in order to unearth secrets than getting under my skirts himself.

Anger swirled inside me, an emotion I tried so hard to avoid. But even Affenala herself couldn’t make this rage disappear. I shouldn’t have to be thankful for any such thing.

“The answer is no,” I said as calmly as I could. I walked the long way around the table, keeping as much distance from the huntsman as I could, and made my way to the stairs. I’d stay in the attic until Gideon left to hunt dragons.

I left the trapdoor open, wanting to hear the hunter’s movements downstairs. It sounded like he had already forgotten me and was making himself at home in the kitchen. Releasing the stick hidden in my pocket, I flexed my fingers. I had wrapped my hand around it so tightly as I walked away from Gideon that the uneven nubs along its length had left impressions in my flesh. I was lucky that I hadn’t squeezed the bit designed to activate the enchantment.

I looked around the attic room, needing something to do while I waited for Gideon to leave. The attic stretched across the entire length of the cottage, but only a strip down the center was usable for more than storing old trunks, thanks to the sloped roof. There were two beds, one of which was covered in wood shavings, carving tools, and an eclectic assortment of books. Most of the books were splayed open, with scraps of wood holding the pages flat. When I had peeked at them the night before, I had discovered an adventure novel, a book about animal anatomy, and a history of the ruling dynasties of Nemya. I wanted to close the books and add them to the low shelf against the wall. I’d slip bookmarks in first, but I knew better than to touch them.

I knew better than to touch any of Ranulf’s things. Organizing the healing supplies in the guest room was one thing, but this was his personal space. I was shocked he had even let me into the room, let alone allowing me to stay unsupervised.

Since I couldn’t tidy, and I had no other tasks to occupy me, I paced the length of the attic, pausing by the trap door every third pass or so to listen for Gideon. Eventually, I heard him return to the guest room. I stayed at the trapdoor and listened as he donned his chain mail and left the cottage.

I waited a few more minutes, then left the attic.

Given that Gideon hadn’t even attempted to follow me to the attic, I figured he considered me beneath his notice. He would gladly use me to get the information he wanted, but he didn’t have any interest in me beyond that. Avoiding him now had more to do with maintaining my composure than anything else.

I ate breakfast, boiled a few eggs, and started a large pot of soup. The time those tasks had taken ought to have been enough for Gideon to make his way far from the cottage and the blackberry patch. I found the basket I had used the day before and left.

I took my time picking berries, choosing only the best ones, and snacking on several as I went. It was a lovely way to spend the morning. Still, even under the shelter of the trees, where the sun’s heat was pleasant rather than oppressive, I felt hot and sticky by the time the basket was full.

I could hear the river in the distance, a rush of water that would feel divine. Without thinking about it, I turned toward the river instead of the cottage. It only took a few minutes to reach the bank. I followed it downstream, looking for an area where the water calmed. I knew from my travels to and from Wulfkin that the river widened and slowed at random spots as the terrain of the forest changed.

It took me nearly a half hour to find an ideal spot for swimming. I was even more impatient to dive into the cool water after my hike. I found a flat spot to place my basket of blackberries and pulled my kerchief off and tossed it atop the basket. My hair was going to become a wet, tangled mess and I didn’t care.

Walking closer to the riverbank, I began loosening the laces of my bodice.

Some instinct made me look up into the bright sky. The sun was almost directly overhead, its light sparkling on the surface of the water. A few clouds dotted the sky. Beneath them soared the dragon. It curved back and forth, not quite following the path of the river far below it. Its scales glittered like emeralds and my breath caught as I took in its beauty. It was flying lower than the first time I had seen it, and I could make out more details, like the black eyes that seemed to lock on me.

The dragon dove lower, skimming over the trees on the far side of the river, getting closer and closer. I held my breath. Awe held me immobile. I should have been afraid, but I couldn’t summon any emotion but wonder.

Then the dragon banked left and came directly toward me. I stumbled back a step and fell on my bottom. The dragon’s wings flapped, the wind sending dirt in my face and my hair and skirts into disarray, and it flew straight up toward the sun.

I sat in the grass for a few minutes, trying to figure out what had happened. If the dragon had opened its mouth, it could have swallowed me whole or turned me to ash with a single burst of flame. But the way those dark eyes had locked on me hadn’t been predatory.

That hadn’t been the gaze of a ravaging beast. There had been an intelligence I hadn’t expected in their depths. Instinct told me I had never been in any real danger, and I wanted to believe it too much let logic take over.

Why would anyone want to kill such a magnificent creature?

I swiped at the hair in my face and looked at the dirt now covering my hand. I could contemplate what had happened with the dragon once I was in the water.