The Apple of My Eye

Chapter 12

For Alastor's dinner that evening, Charlotte had decided to cook a stew that she was certain would be tasty and have enough to help whoever consumed it restore their strength. For the meat she used leftover venison from the picnic. She made sure that the meat was nice and tender, not at all tough or lacking in flavor. For the stew broth she used juice from a barrel of apples that had been purchased which she then mixed with some herbs. Apples were indeed an excellent food source of health so she was certain that this stew would make Alastor well again. That is if he would eat it.

She wasn't sure what to do about all of this. She knew that she was the cause of his sorrow and she so desperately wanted to tell him how much she loved him but the fear of shaming him still had a strong hold on her.

"You are cruel to him." A voice said.

Charlotte was alone in the kitchen stirring the stew in the pot when she realized that it had become dark outside and Rosie appeared in mist of fireflies just as she had done many times before.

"Truly what you are doing to him is awful." The dark skinned woman scolded. "He spends day and night pinning away for you and yet you ignore him. How can you be so cruel hearted?"

"I am cruel hearted?" Charlotte said. "You are the one who pushed me into his arms even though our positions would eventually keep us apart."

"My child the only thing keeping the two of you apart is you. He said that he loved you and he asked you to be his wife but you ran from him. He has spent weeks searching for you but you hide from him. You have broken his heart and it is killing him. Do you not see that?"

"I do now but I...I...I don't know what to do about it."

"Is it not obvious? You must go to him and you must love him. That is the only way he will recover."

"But what if he doesn't want me? The real me."

"You are letting fear and insecurities keep you from happiness. I give you my word that no matter what he learns about you it will not change his feelings toward you."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because he knows all too well how it feels to be rejected and considered lower than dirt."

"What do you mean?"

Rosie sighed then sat herself down on a chair that was right next to the fireplace. Her hands gently took hold of Charlotte's and looked at her as a mother would when she is about to enlist wisdom to her child.

"I have a story to tell you. A story about myself and my nephew. A story that will explain what it is I need you to do for me." She explained. "You see my dear girl I was not born in this land. I come from a place across the sea where the grass is tall and the sun is most hot. I lived there for four years but then my own father sold me and my mother into slavery. For years we were bought and sold by many masters, the lot of them were very wicked to us and the most vile of them all spent many nights violating my mother which sadly is how my sister was conceived. The many years of hard labor, beatings, and violating took a great toll on my mother. A toll so strong that she died the very night my sister was born."

"I am so sorry for your loss." Charlotte said empathizing with Rosie.

"That night I had to go from sibling to parent and I raised my sister alone without any help. I loved her dearly and did my best to ensure that she grew up loved. When she was still a child we finally came here to be the slaves of Eli Devalcourt. A bigoted man but he was the least horrible of all the masters I had known. When my sister became a woman she was a real beauty and she attracted many male gazes. One of which happened to belong to our master's son. Everyday he'd come around our little quarters, acting all sweet on her. I knew he was trouble and I told my sister to avoid him however she could not resist the lure of romance."