***SPOILERS AHEAD FOR WICKED ENCOUNTERS, SEASON 1 OF THE WICKED SERIES***
After the betrayal that shattered Cordelia's world, she finds herself in the arms of Elias's enemy--his twin brother. Cane has trapped her in an icy paradise with no friends...
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Warm fur-lined boots, soft leggings, and cable-knit sweaters, I don't think I've ever owned a wardrobe quite like this. It's hard to turn my nose up at such beautiful clothes, even if they came from the bane of my existence. I pull out an over-sized gray sweater that matches my slouchy socks and stuff my arms inside.
For the past three days, I've locked myself in my room, only opening the door for Ruth when she brings up my meals. Loneliness and sadness got the better of me yesterday and I asked her to stay while I ate. She remained quiet while I complained about her boss, appeasing me with agreeable hums and nods. By the time my plate was clean, I felt guilty for talking the entire time and I asked her to return today to keep me company.
Her light knock comes from my door, and I practically run to answer it.
Ruth flashes me a toothy grin that deepens the wrinkles around her mouth. Strands of her blonde/gray hair have fallen loose from the bun high upon her head, the ends brushing her round, rosy cheeks. I'm surprised that the beast roaming downstairs doesn't make her dress in an apron but allows her to wear pullovers with cartoons on the front and trendy sneakers.
"Come in," I say, swinging the door wide open for her.
She continues to smile as she steps through with a wooden platter adorned with vegetables, cheeses, and cute little finger sandwiches. "I hope you don't mind; I thought I would actually eat with you today."
The idea of not being alone actually makes me smile and I shake my head. "Of course not. Please, sit over here." I lead her to the small table in front of the fireplace and take the tray from her, pulling out the chair opposite the one I'd been sitting in earlier.
The chairs that surround this table are soft and comfortable, and just the right height for me to sit and eat my meals like a real adult, rather than perched in my bed with my plate in my lap, as I often did in my dorm back in college. I have to admit; this room is nice, even if it's starting to feel a little like a prison cell.
Ruth waves her hand over the platter and says, "Go ahead, take what you like."
We both busy ourselves making our plates and eat in amicable silence until I finally speak. "Ruth, can I ask you something?"
"Of course, elskan mín," she says, and my heart squeezes in my chest.
"Wait, you speak Icelandic?" I ask, unexpected tears springing to my eyes.
"Já, everyone in the village does. I speak English here with Mr. Da—Cane," she says as if calling him by his first name is something she still has to put forth a concentrated effort to do. "But back in the village, my people all speak Icelandic."
My heart beats faster and hope springs in my chest. "Is that where we are? Iceland?"
She shakes her head and gives me a sympathetic smile. "Nei, elskan. It's just the language we adopted. It's been that way since the village was first settled, the way I've been told. You are in the supernatural realm."
