Tragic Innocence

Chapter 36: Riddance of the Shrew

            A dreamy twittering sound floated on the air and danced merrily about her ears.  Pentulla slowly pulled open her eyes and was thoroughly confused when she saw the many golden spears of bright light that filtered through her bed-drapes.

            Another peculiar testament was a fresh-scented draft that wafted over to her nose.  It smelled like fresh rain, rich soil and pungent foliage.  These were all witnesses against the deep darkness of the underworld.

            Her heart began to thump fiercely against her chest as she carefully sat up in the warmth of the down bed.  She was deeply tucked into a huge round bed in a round chamber with a round window that was slightly open to allow the beauty of the morning to awake her.

            At first, she thought it was a dream of the freedom that she had so longed for while under the goblin emperor’s cruel dominion.  Now, she thought with glee as it swirled quickly in her veins, she recalled everything that had happened.  She was truly free!

            With a quick leap out of the warm and heavy covers, she darted over to the window and peaked outside.  The heavens were still pink with the entrance of the blushing Enon.  A few brilliant golden rays stretched like cramped arms overhead, managing to pierce a few tall trees--she being in one of them.

            Pentulla could hardly control her happiness and smile that stretched widely across her face.  She closed her eyes appreciatively and inhaled deeply the aromatic scents of her first dawn, subsequently releasing her breath with slow and controlled exhalation.  Freedom had never felt so good!

            She reluctantly turned her face from the outside world and found herself looking at a narrow, tall washstand with curling legs and webbed carving of morning glories with spiraling tendrils.  At the center of the stand was a mother-of-pearl wash-basin filled with steaming water.  Next to it, sat a neatly folded kerchief and below the basin upon an elliptical shelf, a matching pitcher of heated water resided.  A narrow oval mirror was angled towards her face at chest level.

            Pentulla was towling her thick hair as she entered the inviting larder.  Huge ovens with large arches gaped darkly at her with long conduits that exited through the domed ceiling overhead.  A large waist-high table rested against the wall between the ovens with all sorts of used cutlery and cutting boards.  The opposite wall was graced with other fancy larder items that she could not quite decipher.

            “I imagine that you are besides yourself with hunger,” came an amused voice behind her.

            Pentulla leaped with a start, spinning quickly as she dropped the small cloth from her hair.

            “Please forgive my intrusion…” Crow bowed with majestic smoothness as thick locks of hair tumbled over his eyes.  He paused mid-sentence, his breath stolen away by the simplistic beauty that she so artlessly possessed.

            He smiled, for at that very moment he still recollect the image of her pristine self sitting upon the platform that the goblins had paraded for her coronation.  He had called her uniqueness to the likeness of a timid unicorn in the pale moonlight’s pool.  If she resembled a unicorn then, he exhaled slowly, allowing his eyes to take in her loveliness, she all the more appeared as one, especially with the freshness of the Enon upon her smooth complexion and the dampness of her hair.

            What came next from his own lips came as rather a shock, his eyes wide with embarrassment during the aftermath, “You are so beautiful, Pentulla.”   Pentulla’s lips opened as if she prepared to speak, but she closed them primly.  A delicate blush swept over her cheeks and nose and she lowered her lashes.