Flight of Frost and Aurora

Chapter 14

The next morning, Charlotte rose with the dawn, eager to prepare breakfast for her father and stepfamily, as was her daily routine. However, today felt different; she wanted to create something truly special for Alastor. She tiptoed through the stillness of the house, careful not to disturb her father, stepmother, or Lute. In the kitchen, she expertly crafted a delightful meal of duck eggs infused with fresh herbs, accompanied by warm buns filled with creamy goat cheese. To complete the breakfast, she brewed steaming coffee, enriched with fresh goat's milk. She carefully arranged them on a tray and carried it out to the barn, just as Alastor was beginning to wake up.

"Good morning, Alastor," she greeted, her voice bright with enthusiasm. "I made you breakfast."

He looked at the tray, then back at her, admiration shining in his eyes. "Charlotte, you are far too kind. This looks amazing."

He descended from his sleeping spot, and they settled down together, sharing a meal and engaging in lively conversation.

"You cook as well as Mother Rosamund," Alastor remarked between bites, his mouth full of the warm bun.

"Oh? She cooks? I thought she was all-powerful. Can't she just make her food magically appear, already cooked?" Charlotte teased.

"Yes, but she always said that food isn't quite as delicious or special when it's instant. Besides, cooking is a fun chore."

"Oh, it certainly is," Charlotte agreed. "My mother and I used to love cooking together, especially when it came to baking sweets—sugar cakes, apple pies, strawberry tarts. She taught me everything I know before... well, before she passed."

Alastor's expression softened as he reached across the small space between them, taking her hand in his. "I'm sorry, my dear. I know how deeply that tragedy affected you. I lost my mother when I was young too, and my father. Vagatha experienced the same loss."

Charlotte glanced down at their intertwined hands, feeling a warmth spread through her. It was comforting to know that Alastor understood her pain.

"Could you tell me more about her?" he asked gently.

"You really want to know?" she replied, surprised.

"Yes, and I can tell you want to share. You haven't talked about her in a long time, have you?"

"No, I haven't... After she died, Papa was so heartbroken that he couldn't even bring himself to speak her name without weeping. And Eisheth... well, what woman wants to hear about her husband's first wife?"

"Well, you can talk to me about her whenever you like. I want to hear everything."

"Okay, where should I start?" she pondered. "For one, she was undeniably beautiful."

"Well, of course she was beautiful; she had to be to have a daughter as lovely as you."

"Act-actually..." Charlotte blushed. "I don't resemble her much at all. I take after Papa mostly."

"But you have her eyes, and the eyes are always the best feature. While hair may turn gray and skin may wrinkle with time, the eyes remain timeless."

"Do you really think so?"

"I know this to be true. Even as a sprite, I kept the dark brown eyes that I inherited from my mother."

Charlotte giggled, her heart lightening.

"Oh, Mama would have adored you. She believed in things like Mother Rosamund and sprites. She told me all the stories about them. She believed in magic, and the beauty of life and people. You know, her favorite things were snowflakes and roses because they were beautiful and shared their beauty with the world."