Red

Chapter Two

Valentina returned home in the nick of time, her grandmother emerging from her room at the same time the brunette was unpacking the basket of goodies. The crone grunted, her nose crinkling in disgust at the sight of her granddaughter, and said girl could feel the animosity radiating off of wrinkled skin. She made quick work, adding wood to the already burning fireplace and bringing a pot of water to a boil.

"You were almost late," the older woman hissed through clenched teeth. She made her way to her rocking chair, plopping down besides the fire and grabbing her tobacco filled pipe.

The brunette chopped at the vegetables and carried them to the pot, dropping them in. "I had trouble returning home."

A scoff filled the room. "Worthless fool. What good are you if you lose your way on a straight path."

It wasn't a question needing an answer, Val knew that. Whenever the old bat spoke of her, nothing pleasant came from her serpent mouth. She had learned to take it as lightly as possible, and when she was alone in her room, she would patch her wounds up as efficiently as she could. There were times when her fury had surpassed previous moments, and Valentina was forced to dodge flying objects. On the unlucky occasion that she hadn't moved quickly enough, she was forced to conceal the physical evidence. If anyone noticed it, she would disguise it as an accident, blaming her own clumsiness.

"I can find my way fine."

The air was thick with tension, and the hair on the back of the brunette's neck bristled. She regretted her uncontrollable tongue. She was foolish, as only an insufferable idiot would question the hag.

Without a response, the woman threw the ceramic pot that sat at her end table, filled with used tobacco. Val moved swiftly, abandoning the knife and wooden block and falling to her knees. The pot broke against the wall, scattering tobacco and shards across the wood floor. The young woman was about to stand up until another object whipped over her head. This time, it was a candle—glossy white, thick at the base, and lit.

Valentina was quick to act then, worried that the small flame on the wick would cause a fire. She used her leather soled shoe to stomp on the candle, smothering the remaining flame. When she was sure that it would not reignite itself, as some fires could, the brunette stood fully, locking her eyes with glossy, grey ones.

"God forsaken brat," she cursed with venom. "Clean that mess up and finish my dinner."

And with that, her grandmother resumed smoking her pipe, slightly rocking in her chair.

Valentina sighed quietly and made quick work of sweeping up the ceramic shards and dried tobacco, leaving the candle in the kitchen and out of reach. Her heart was still racing, but she had been grateful for her reflexes, knowing that if she had waited another second before ducking, the pot would have hit her. When the mess had been cleaned, she continued fixing dinner, chopping the rest of the vegetables. Grabbing the wood block, she cautiously walked over to the fireplace and scraped the vegetables into the pot of boiling water, returning to the kitchen for a slab of salted meat she had purchased yesterday. The thick knife sliced through the cow until there were four, thin strips. Each strip was rolled, a few types of herbs within them, and dropped into the pot to stew with the rest.

Busying herself with the clean-up process, Val moved around, making as little noise as possible.she checked the stew three times, and on the fourth, it was finished. She gathered two bowls, having placed a slice of bread on the bottom, and ladled the stew overtop, serving her grandmother first. They ate in silence. Once they were finished, Valentina collected the dishes and made quick work of cleaning them, putting them away before retiring to her bedroom.

The flimsy door shut behind her. She latched it and moved the dresser in front of it, never desiring to relive the last time she hadn't secured her door. Her hands found the hem of her dress, pulling it over her head and laying it on the dresser. Leather shoes followed, resting in front of her bed. The chilled air greeted her skin, her hair standing on ends. Left only in a plain, cream-colored chemise, the young woman looked out her window, leaning against the frame.