Was this her savior? No, it couldn't be. If he were, then he'd obviously know she was here. Holding the surrounding blankets, Mint scooted to the other side of the bed. "I… um… I was brought here after getting lost in the forest! Who are you?"
"That's what I'm asking you! This is my home!" The man barked, the shadows of the room turning his handsome features into something frightening. Especially now that she was further away, she could see how tall he was! If she stood, she'd probably only reach his torso!
"I'm… wait. You didn't bring me here?" Mint said after a thought.
"Obviously. I've been out hunting for the last month." The man scrunched his brow, his fierce expression softening. "You were brought here? You didn't wonder in?"
Seemed they were speaking past each other. Mint nodded, keeping the blanket around her body. She stood and performed a curtsy. "Let us get off on the right foot. I'm Minette Franka Bellanyx, but you can all call me Mint." She rushed through her circumstances and how she ended up in his abode. "That's how I came to be here, Sir…"
"Verk, just Verk," Verk introduced while caressing his stubby beard. "A divine woman with golden hair brought you here, you say?"
She nodded. "Yes, there's a note in the parlor, though I could not decipher it."
"Wait a moment," Verk turned out of the room, but stopped in the entrance. "You may take the time to dress. Please meet me then."
After he shut the door, Mint let the blanket fall, and took a steadying breath as she crouched on her knees. She'd been naked this entire time! Holding in her panicked screams, she dressed in the tunic provided to her yesterday and emerged into the main room to find Verk reading the mystery note by the fire. There was also an empty bowl on the table.
"You should clean up when you're done; otherwise, the mess will build up quickly." Verk grunted, and she sighed as she asked the spirits for hot water and cleaned the bowl. "Your house was a bit… filthy, so I cleaned to pass the time."
"I can see that." Verk kept his focus on the letter as she sat down across from him. His sharp silver-green eyes bounced from the letter to her. "I see."
"You see what, exactly?"
Verk scrunched his face as he folded the letter. "I understand why she brought you here. I thought it was strange she would return here after all this time."
"Who, your wife?" Was this man married to a nymph? Verk choked on air.
"No, my mother."
Mint blinked. "Your mother?"
"That is what I said." Verk stashed the letter into a leather pouch and began removing his many layers of clothing. Right onto the floor.
"Must you be so boorish?" She quickly began picking up the discarded clothes and placing them into a woven basket she'd used earlier. The clothes were damp with sweat and smelt like an old shoe. "Yuck! I'll attend to these later. As for you, take a bath!"
Verk, now in only a light tunic and trousers, furrowed his brow. "What's that look?" She snapped. "You've been out hunting for a month, right? Go wash the filth from you!"
"I would be well on my way too, had you not been here," Verk growled.
"Yes, well…" She didn't really have a retort to that. "Go clean up. I'll warm up some stew for breakfast. For a man of your size, one bowl surely isn't enough."
He grunted and silently wandered into the bathroom. The salamander and undine flew in after him to prepare the bath. Blocking out the noise of Verk's bathing, Mint attended to the stew. Hoping she wasn't overstepping.
I bullied him around as if I were his wife!
Her cheeks burned at the thought; perhaps her musing from yesterday still lingered. By all standards, she was acting incredibly rude.
"Smells good."
Mint let out a soft squeak as a damp-haired Verk appeared behind her. How could someone so big have such mouselike movements?
"Why aren't you wearing a shirt!" She snapped, facing away, gazing into the stew.
"You moved them."
"Huh?"
"My clothes are not where I laid them before."
"Oh, yes. I suppose they aren't." Mint scooted around Verk and ran to where she'd laid the patchwork clothes and returned with a dark green tunic. "Here. I just cleaned this one."
Verk stared at the tunic before finally putting it on. It was slightly large for his frame.
"Is that not yours?" Mint asked tentatively as Verk filled two bowls with stew. His stormy silence was causing her heart to beat faster.
"It's fine." He replied, sitting at the kitchen table. "Sit; we'll sort this out after we eat."
"Of course." Mint sat across from him, and together they silently ate. She kept stealing glances every time Verk raised his spoon. His face betrayed nothing.
I wonder if he likes it? He said it smelled good, but does it taste good? He's eating it. So its editable.
A whirlwind of thoughts assaulted her mind as she ate. She was unreasonably concerned about what Verk thought of her cooking. That he showed neither disgust nor pleasure while eating hurt as much as him potentially saying it's awful.
I used plenty of seasoning, so it shouldn't be bland.
It certainly didn't taste bad to her. In fact, after sitting overnight, the stew was even more flavorful. It had meat, vegetables, pepper, and salt. Objectively, this should be a good meal! So he could at least not look like he was eating gruel!
Amid her building frustration, Verk stood and wandered over to the pot to serve up another helping. Making it his third.
"What?" he asked with his spoon half raised.
"Huh?"
"What's that smile about?" Mint touched her face. She was indeed smiling, and quite broadly too.
"Oh, well, I'm happy you like my cooking."
"I suppose I do."
Perhaps he was what her mother called the strong, silent type. She'd seen similar men before while serving knights at the castle. Captain Tallinn was in that vein as well. Compared to the overbearing zeal of the boys that used to court her attention during her maid days. She found this demeanor preferable.
Still, I could stand for him to be a bit more expressive.
Break-
After breakfast, Mint cleaned the dishes while Verk began bringing in his kills from hunting. Once more, they postponed their much-needed discussion. Perhaps they both needed more time to sort things out, or they were of a similar mind that it could wait until dusk. There was only so much daylight this time of year, so why waste it mucking about talking when they could work?
"Here," Verk gifted her a stained leather apron and a carving knife. Together they began skinning and butchering his catch of elk and deer. He worked on tanning the hides, while she cut and salted the meat. Once he'd done all he could, he moved to help with the butchering.
They worked silently. Speaking the absolute minimum. It wasn't awkward though; in fact, Mint found it strangely comforting.
"That should be enough for today." Verk announced as the sun set. They finished the last of the stew, bathed. Separately of course, and sat down beside the fireplace.
It was time.
"I'll take you out of the forest after the snow melts." Verk said as he poured a strong-smelling wine into a pair of cups. "I doubt you'll survive the trip otherwise."
"True," she agreed, taking the offered cup. "Will you be returning me home or…?"
She already informed him of her circumstances. If her engagement fell through because of her disappearance, her father would likely arrange another. Perhaps if her value as a princess was diminished, she'd be offered to a local lord within the kingdom rather than a foreign one. On the off chance her engagement was still on, even after all this, she was to move to her new home.
"You'll end up where you need to." Verk replied, sipping his wine, his expression not betraying anything. "Though… never mind."
What was that look? Mint tried to read into it, but couldn't. Surely he couldn't be smitten with her already? Even if he were, it wouldn't matter; she would be married off to someone for the benefit of her kingdom.
"Pardon my asking, Verk, but you said your mother brought me here, correct?"
"Correct, most likely on a whim."
"Even so, she did, and left a note." Which she couldn't read. "I was wondering who is your mother? And what of your father?" The tunic he currently wore was clearly made for a man of even larger stature. "Perhaps even more importantly, who are you?"
Verk leaned back in his seat and looked at the ceiling with a crest brow. "Mother is someone prone to occasional whimsical fancies."
"But who is she?"
"She told me not to tell you in her letter."
"Why?"
"Because it would tip the scales of your destiny or something."
"Tip the scales of my destiny? What does that mean? How would knowing the name of my savior cause such a thing to happen?"
Verk looked straight at her, his silver-emerald eyes glowing intensely. "If you knew, you wouldn't be able to act on your free will. You would feel obligated to follow her suggestion as if it were an order."
"I see." That both narrowed and broadened her theory. "Your mother is someone who could disregard the words of a king, correct?"
"What do you think?"
Mint kept quiet. If Verk's mother was who she thought, then there was no telling what fate awaited her. They were being incredibly kind not to impose a divine decree on her after not only saving her life, but perhaps forgiving her transgression in the ruins. Perhaps this was the pathway to escape her fate of being a caged queen, but would it be a better fate? Probably not.
"Your mother aside, what of your father?" Verk was a male nymph, which meant he was a half-elf, as all full-blooded nymphs were female.
"I can't tell you his name either, as that would give away my mother, but obviously he was a Yorgmen."
"Obviously." Verk's height made him a half-Yorg, or a half giant. "But you saying that makes me nostalgic for an old bedtime tale."
When she was young, her mother told her a story where one of Elfania's daughters called upon the mightiest warriors of every race and creed to partake in a challenge for one of her daughters' hands. It was said that one thousand of the world's mightiest fighters went to the roots of the world tree, and none returned. Was there a victor? It was never said, but most assumed no, as the winner would have to subdue one of the three demigod sisters. A task very few if any could meet.
A Yorgman, though?
If there were any in the world who could, Mint would be inclined to believe it would be one of them. Supposing she believes such a thing happened, which daughter of Elfania would it be? The first daughter, Alfa, or Heia; the second, or Fey; the third?
She vigorously shook her head, fighting against her own curiously. Knowing would do her no good; in fact, it would only be trouble!
"What's that look?" Mint pouted as Verk looked at her with a bemused expression.
"Nothing," he drawled with a smirk. "I find your antics entertaining, that's all."
"I'm so happy you find my puzzlement entertaining. Why don't you do whatever it is you do while I finish stitching these clothes?"
"Appreciate it." He replied and proceeded to watch her work while sipping his wine. Mint endured his amused gaze, while her cheeks burned hotter every hour until the fire flickered to embers. "Time for bed." Verk yawned.
"Yes, indeed." Mint stood and put away the sewing tools. Her mind was so frazzled by Verk's antics she didn't notice they entered the bedroom together. He was in the middle of pulling off his tunic, while she lifted the hem of hers. "What are you doing?"
"Going to bed."
"Surely there is a guest room?"
"There is," he replied. "But there's no mattress on the bed; it rotted away."
"I see." Mint looked from the bed to Verk. "And your solution for that?"
"I'll make a new one tomorrow."
"What about tonight?" She insisted as Verk crawled onto the bed.
"Either get in or sleep on the sofa — your choice."
That was apparently the end of the discussion as he closed his eyes. She didn't believe he was really asleep until she heard snores. Puffing her cheeks, Mint held the hem of her tunic down as she crawled on the opposite side of the bed. She lay there uncertain if sleep would ever take her. This was her first time lying with a man in bed in any capacity. Yet as the night dragged on, her eyes fluttered as the warmth of Verk's body enveloped her.
He's… very warm.