Red Riding Hood - Chapter 18
“Lord Wolf, please move to the fireplace.”
“Sure, sure.”
Ylfus, holding Cinq tightly in his arms, walked toward the fireplace. Nestled snugly in his embrace, with her small feet resting atop his large ones, Cinq toddled along with him toward the warmth.
On the hearth, a pot of cream stew simmered and bubbled.
As Cinq checked the tenderness of the turnips and adjusted the seasoning, Ylfus busied himself in his own way.
He buried his nose in the soft bundle of her pinned-up hair, inhaling her scent, which carried the warmth of the kitchen. Lowering his head, he pressed his lips to the fine, golden down at the nape of her neck, indulging fully.
Cinq turned her head and nuzzled her soft cheek against his rough one, calling out to him in a sweet voice.
“Lord Wolf.”
“Yes, little one.”
“Have you ever been loved by a cook?”
Ylfus chuckled at the massive portion of stew she had ladled into the large wooden bowl she held.
With one arm around her, he carried his bowl to the dining table. The two drew their chairs close, sitting so snugly together that their arms entwined as they ate.
“Lord Wolf, I’ll visit the pond tomorrow.”
“The pond?”
“Yes. If I set up the nets, I can catch small fish. I’ll make some delicious fried fish for you.”
Cinq chattered away, tearing small pieces of bread with her delicate fingers and dropping them into Ylfus’s bowl.
“Lord Wolf, have you ever been loved by a fisherman?”
Ylfus gazed at her warmly, watching her radiant smile bloom like a sunlit flower.
In the few days they’d spent together, her condition had been steadily improving.
Last night, she hadn’t mentioned the ghost named Six, who supposedly wandered near the house. Nor had she stared silently out the window at nothing.
“I don’t want to visit the fish market in the village anymore. I only went there because Vinya liked fish, but now I don’t have to.”
Vinya. Ylfus seethed at the thought of that crone-like brothel keeper.
The vile woman, who deserved to rot in hell, had fed Cinq tea laced with paralyzing and hallucinogenic effects.
“The fish running the shop was so mean.”
As Ylfus listened quietly to Cinq’s chatter, he decided to probe her condition further.
“The shopkeeper was a fish?”
“Yes. It had a human body, but his head is a fish’s.”
Cinq spoke casually, slicing a turnip with her wooden spoon.
“There aren’t any humans in this village. Instead, other beings live here.”
Ylfus closed his eyes, burying his lips in her golden hair to mask the pity in his gaze.
According to her, the village had no humans—only other beings.
Her hallucinations had a basis in reality: a fish-headed shopkeeper, a horse driving a cart, pigs, cows, and dogs roaming the streets. Even the priest at the temple was a white goat.
Ylfus had seen similar symptoms in soldiers on the battlefield.
They trembled and stared with hollow eyes, saying,
“The enemies no longer look human. They seem like something else wearing human shapes.”
Their suffering had clouded their vision.
Some recovered over time, while others never did. Their faces told the story.
Those who recovered returned to their usual selves, as if they had never spoken of such things. Those who didn’t were consumed by fear and eventually lost their minds.
But Ylfus would not let Cinq fall into that abyss.
Opening his eyes, he looked down at her face and asked,
“Cinq, then what about me? How do I look to you?”
Cinq lifted her clear, blue eyes like droplets of water to meet his gaze.
Smiling brightly, she replied,
“At first, I thought you were a wolf. But you’re human.”
Ylfus smiled back at her, mentally assessing her condition.
Because of Vinya’s tea, Cinq seemed to perceive threatening figures as inhuman.
In her world, the only people were herself, the kind-hearted prostitute Six, and the brothel keeper, Vinya.
And now, there was him—the man who loved her.
“Ylfus.”
With a rough, rumbling breath, he whispered his name into her ear.
“That’s the name of the man who loves you, Cinq.”
Cinq turned and nestled into his embrace, pressing her soft body gently against his.
With her small hands, she cradled his bearded chin, and her slender fingers traced light, tickling paths across his cheeks.
