The Princess And The Enemy
Chapter 4
Yara’s cottage. Late morning.
Elizabeth stands awkwardly in the small kitchen, sleeves rolled up, hair damp from her wash. A pot simmers unevenly on the hearth fire. She’s frowning at it.
Elizabeth
*to herself*
How hard can it be? Boil water. Add roots. Stir. Easy.
She picks up a wooden spoon, tastes a little—and winces immediately.
Elizabeth
Ugh… No, no, no. That’s awful. How is this even bitter and bland at the same time?
She rushes to add more salt—accidentally dumps nearly the entire jar into the pot. Stirs frantically. Smoke starts to rise.
Elizabeth
Oh no. Oh no! Yara’s going to throw me back in the forest…
The door creaks open. Yara steps in, brushing pine needles off her cloak.
Behind her enters a tall, gentle-looking young man dressed in earth-toned linen. His hair is windswept. His eyes—curious. Roscoe Montgomery.
Yara
You set the cottage on fire yet?
Elizabeth
*startled*
I—no! Just… smoke. A little. It’s edible. I think. Maybe.
Roscoe enters behind Yara
Elizabeth
*squints at him, tilts her head*
Wait… you look familiar.
Roscoe
*smiling gently*
We met. Years ago. You were twelve, I think. My father and I visited Kuradi. There was a festival… you wore a crown of spring lilies and threw pie at the nobles.
Elizabeth
*gasps softly, then laughs*
I remember that! My mother scolded me for days.
Yara
You threw pie at nobles?
Elizabeth
They deserved it. One of them called me a porcelain puppet.
Roscoe
You didn’t miss, either. Right between the eyes.
Yara
Well, now that the introductions are out of the way—Roscoe, you’re eating the stew. Elizabeth’s orders.
Roscoe
*grinning*
I think I can survive stew.
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