Flight of Frost and Aurora

Chapter 13

For the first time in years, Charlotte felt a genuine smile spread across her face as she cooked in the kitchen. She and Alastor worked side by side, their laughter intertwining with the sounds of sizzling pans and bubbling pots. The air was infused with the enticing aromas of fresh herbs and spices, a delightful departure from the usual mustiness that hung in the house. Charlotte felt lighter, her heart lifted by Alastor's presence and the effortless rhythm of their collaboration.

"Just a pinch more salt," Alastor suggested, leaning over the roasted duck they had prepared. "And a little pepper—just not too much."

"Alright," Charlotte replied, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Are the parsnips ready?"

"Just about. Give it five more minutes."

"Roasted duck with wild parsnips is Papa's favorite dish," Charlotte said, a hint of hope in her voice. "It'll put him in a good mood when I ask if he'll hire you."

"I hope so," Alastor said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

As the parsnips finished roasting, the two began to set the table. Just as they plated the last of the meal, the sound of footsteps echoed ominously from the front of the house. Charlotte's heart stoped momentarily as she recognized the familiar, heavy tread of her stepmother.

"Quick! Clean up!" she whispered urgently to Alastor, her eyes wide with panic.

They hurriedly tidied the kitchen, but it was too late. The door swung open, and Eisheth and Lute stormed into the house, their voices raised in a furious rant. Apparently, their visit to Sir Peter had not gone as planned.

"Lady Emily!" Lute scoffed. "What's so special about Lady Emily?"

"Calm yourself, precious. There are still plenty of rich bachelors out there for you to marry," Eisheth said, stepping into the kitchen with an air of authority.

"Charlotte!" she barked, her voice sharp enough to slice through the fragrant aroma of the meal. "What is this man doing here?!"

Charlotte's heart raced as she turned to face her stepmother, her mind scrambling for a plausible explanation. Alastor stood beside her, his expression a mix of concern and confusion.

"He's just a friend, Stepmother," Charlotte said quickly, striving to keep her voice steady. "I was asking for help with the chores. You know how busy I've been."

"A friend?" Lute echoed, her tone dripping with disdain. "What kind of friend walks into our home without an invitation? And he looks positively filthy! Have you no shame, Charlotte?"

"I will not have some ragged boy tarnishing our home. You will leave immediately!" Eisheth shouted, grabbing a nearby whip from the rack and turning her wrath onto Charlotte. "And you! You deceitful little viper! I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget!"

She raised her arm to strike her stepdaughter, but Alastor swiftly snatched the whip from Eisheth's grasp, delivering a sharp crack against her backside. Eisheth yelped in surprise, her eyes widening in shock as she stumbled back, momentarily disarmed by Alastor's boldness.

"How dare you!" she spat, her face flushed with fury. "You insolent boy! You have no right to touch me!"

She grabbed a broom and swung it at him, but Alastor deftly dodged her attacks, laughing as he retaliated with a few playful whips of the whip.

Charlotte felt a mix of fear and exhilaration as she watched Alastor stand his ground against her stepmother—a sight she had never imagined witnessing.

"You'll live to regret this!" Eisheth snarled. "Do you know who I am?! I am the judge's wife!"

"The only judge I recognize is God, and he would certainly never marry you!" Alastor mocked.