Fantasyland 01 Wildest Dreams (6 page)

BOOK: Fantasyland 01 Wildest Dreams
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I took as much of the dwelling in as I could
in a quick, rounded glance and I saw a kitchen at the back, over it
I saw I was right, a low-ceiling loft with short railing that you
got to using a ladder. The roof was at a slant, opening wide at the
front room where there was no loft. A big room at the front. Stone
fireplace on either side. Another fireplace I could see in the
loft. And a closed door to a space beside the kitchen.

And everything was filthy, absolutely.
There was what looked like a hundred years of dust and even cobwebs
all over it (not that I could imagine spiders existing in this
climate but clearly they did at some point). There was furniture
covered by graying sheets. Windows so covered in grime you could
barely see through them. And there were heavy curtains having
caught so much dust, it had actually started
dripping.

Eek!

The Dragon suddenly spoke and I jumped, my
gaze swinging to him.

“The stable is stocked for your horses. The
larder for you. Logs, fuel and supplies out back. More logs in the
shed. You should be provided for.”

I blinked at him in confusion at his words
as he stalked to a counter that jutted out, separating the
kitchen-type area from the living room type area. Then he dropped a
leather pouch on it, it made a loud, thumping jangle and he turned,
walking toward the door while speaking.

“Coin for you to use in Houllebec for
necessities.”

I blinked again and turned my body to keep
facing him as he moved then he stopped at the door and turned to
me.

“When I decide it’s time, I shall find a
woman who looks somewhat like you, if that is possible, and sire a
child on her. We will present this child to your father as his
heir.”

Uh… what?

“What?” I whispered and his hard face got
harder at my quiet, one word question.

“I’ll not thrust my cock between the legs of
a woman who prefers a woman’s mouth there, Sjofn.”

Uh…
what?

“What?” I breathed this time, knowing my
eyes had grown wide.

He jerked his chin. “You were drunk and may
not remember our discussion but I bloody well do.”

Oh God. Oh shit. Oh God.

Now I knew why Sjofn played me.

She was a lesbian and wanted nothing to do
with a man who was more man than any man maybe on two worlds!

Oh shit! Oh God! Oh shit!

“Uh –” I started not having that first clue
what to say.

“Maybe,” he cut me off, “as further
recompense for this ridiculous, bloody, gods damned farce your
father talked me into and, for some gods damned reason, I agreed
to, I’ll watch you at play with a woman.”

Oh God! Oh Shit! OhGodohshitohGod!

He went on. “The gods know, a trunk of
Sjofn ice diamonds and a trunk of gold is
not
worth being saddled with the bloody likes
of
you
as wife for
a lifetime. I might as well get what I can out of it and watching a
woman take you would be…” his eyes swept me before he finished,

interesting.

OhshitohGodohshit.

“Uh –” I mumbled.

He cut me off again saying, “I’ll be back in
a month,” I blinked as my body locked in shock at his words and he
walked out the door, starting to close it behind him then he
stopped and his eyes locked on mine, “maybe two.”

Then he was gone.

I stared at the door unseeing. Then, slowly,
I looked around the filthy house which was only slightly less cold
than the outside and nowhere near as grand as the place I’d started
this adventure.

Then it hit me he said he’d be back in a
month… or two.

He was leaving me here.

Leaving me here!

I came unstuck with a jolt and ran to the
door.

Throwing it open I saw my sleigh, my horses
and no Dragon.

I glared into the brightening sky.

Then I shouted at the top of my lungs, “God
damn it!”

My horses danced slightly in agitation.

I stood in the cold, glaring at the thick
but beautifully frosted forest all around thinking I had not
handled that situation, or him, very well.

Then I stomped back into the house.

* * * * *

I was cold, exhausted and hungry but I was
also Seoafin Wilde and I’d been in some serious pickles in my life
and I’d always managed to survive.

It must be said, sharks crashing a sea
dive and elephants stampeding were a lot more serious than a dirty
house in the middle of a frozen nowhere. And Claudia hadn’t even
mentioned that time the natives got
seriously
restless.

So I was Seoafin Wilde and
nothing
ever got me down.

The good news was, I was a lesbian and
therefore my husband wanted nothing to do with me.

The bad news was, I was a lesbian and my
husband thought he could watch me “at play” with a woman.

The good news was, he was gone, apparently
for awhile, so I had time to figure out what to do about that.

The bad news was, I was in the middle of a
frost-filled forest. I was cold, exhausted and hungry and I had
four horses as well as myself to take care of.

So, since I really had no choice, I took
care of the lot of us.

Prioritizing, I had to get changed. Many
people wouldn’t think this was priority but, seriously, that
dress
rocked
and it
wouldn’t do for it to get dusty or torn.

So I went out to the sleigh, told my horses
I’d get them warm and fed as soon as possible, they whinnied like
they knew what I was talking about and I unhooked the silken ropes
that held down the also silk tarp and threw it aside.

Eight huge trunks were in the back of the
sleigh, four smaller ones.

I started with the smaller ones because I
could carry them, lugging them in one by one and opening them.
Quick glances told me there was nothing I could use in the present.
So out I went to pull off the first trunk which was so huge and
heavy, I had to drag it down off the sleigh, it thudded against the
snow, then I dragged it into the house.

I opened it.

Sheets and blankets.

Shit.

Back out I went and I got the second trunk
in.

On top of some folded, soft, knit woolen
gowns, I saw a note. I picked it up and read it.

Princess Sjofn,

We’re so sorry. Your mother supervised your
packing. We had to pack only your trousseau. We couldn’t pack any
of your breeches or the shirts and boots you like.

But all of this is lovely and we hope you
enjoy it.

Write to us and tell us how you’re getting
along.

We will miss you.

Alyssa, Esther, Jocelyn and Bess

Well, apparently, Sjofn of this world
dressed like a boy.

Perhaps not a surprise.

I had to admit, even though I (mostly)
avoided dressing like a boy (unless I was caving or the like) I
could use some breeches or whatever at the present time but if a
dress was all I had, a dress was what I would use. I sorted through
them, finding the least fine but warmest looking one as well as a
light wool cloak at the bottom of the trunk and changed (with some
difficulty for it was buttoned down the back) out of my wedding
gown.

Seeing my underwear at its fullest, I was
right, it was awesome, the bustier was hot as all hell, my breasts
nearly spilling out of it. It was so damned sexy, as crazy as such
a thought was, I couldn’t help but think my stupid new husband who
didn’t wait around to get an eyeful of
that
was a moron. But I didn’t look long because it was
fucking cold and I needed to get dressed.

So I got dressed then I got busy.

I started fires in the two grates in the
living room. Luckily, there were dry logs stacked at the sides as
well as kindling and they even had matches that were made of very
long, slim pieces of wood that I had to drag across the stone of
the hearths but they made starting a fire a snap.

Then out to the sleigh I went to drag in all
the trunks. Then back out to stamp through the snow to the biggest
outbuilding. Upon entry, I found it was what I thought it was, a
six stall stable, cleaner than the house by far (my husband was
clearly not only scary but also a dick, cleaning the stable but
keeping the house in such a state) and there was a barrel full of
fresh water, plenty of oats and hay. With effort, I threw open the
huge sliding door, stamped back through the snow, got in the sleigh
and led them inside the stable. I closed the door and went to work.
It took for-freaking-ever to figure out how to unhook the horses
and get their apparatus off them. But I damn well did it, led them
to their stalls, fed and watered them. I hung the apparatus up on
hooks outside each stall and then I stamped back to the house.

Once inside, I fed the fires more wood then
took inventory.

The kitchen was rudimentary: big, old
battered wooden table with two chairs, big used butcher block in
the middle, big, black iron stove, wooden sink with (thank God) a
pump that, upon testing, worked and pumped clear, clean water.
Cupboards, as my dickhead husband said, were not bare but most of
the shit at first glance I didn’t know what it was.

I decided I’d spend more time on that
later.

There were also other supplies stuffed in
the plethora of cabinets: dishes, cups, silverware, wooden spoons
and a stack of wooden bowls and other accoutrements to use for
cooking, cast iron pots and skillets, candlestick holders and gas
lamps with a few lanterns thrown in.

Using the stack of wood in the kitchen, I
built another fire in the stove then out the backdoor I went. There
was an enclosed porch type area that ran the length of the house,
one whole side lined with stacks of logs so high, they went up to
my neck. There were a couple of cupboards too, one I opened was
filled with tall candles of all widths. Another one was filled with
plugged jugs of what a sniff test told me was some kind of fuel.
Probably for the lamps.

Okay, good. I had heat and light and, by the
looks of it, a lot of it.

I stamped out the backdoor to the two,
remaining out buildings.

One, to my gloom, was an outhouse.

The other, far larger, was a shed that was
also filled with split, prepared logs, a shitload of kindling and
another cupboard filled with fuel. There was also a hatchet, an
axe, several buckets and other bits and bobs.

Back to the house I went, I opened a door
off the living room and entered a room that had a table with a
ceramic basin on it, a pitcher under it, an oval mirror on the wall
over it and a drum like thing in the middle of the space, this one
made of some kind of metal. It was oval and I suspected it was a
tub. There was also a small fireplace in there.

Well, bath time wasn’t going to be relaxing.
But at least there was a bath.

Back out to the living room where I wandered
the place, noting there were lots of rugs on the floor, not thick,
but they covered the wood planks so the cold wouldn’t seep up. As I
wandered, I carefully pulled off the sheets covering the furniture,
bunching them quickly while doing it so I captured as much of the
dust as possible.

Now
we were talking. Finally, something
decent.

A big, fluffy couch and two deep-seated
fluffy chairs with ottomans, all turned to the biggest fireplace. A
sturdy desk with chair behind it in a corner. Handsome tables here
and there as well as some tall candleholders. It was all rustic,
hunting-cabin chic but it looked well-made and definitely
comfortable… if cleaned.

I then climbed the ladder and, moving around
the loft stooped, which was the only way I could for the ceiling
was so low, I saw it had three windows (two either side of the
small, stone fireplace that had an iron grate at the front to catch
sparks) and one at the side facing the back, all grimy, all with
heavy, short curtains. It also had a fluffy, down mattress on the
floor covered with a sheet I yanked off and I saw it also had four
fluffy down pillows. Last, it had a heavy curtain that ran on a
rail the length of the space in front of a short railing, likely to
ward off the chill from the bigger space and keep in the heat from
the fire.

Bent double, I stared at the bed. Then I
thought of crawling into it. Then I wondered about the light, how
long the days were here and how I would most assuredly
not
want to pass out, sleep the day
away and be in this loft in this stinking house in the dark without
having at least set up the candles and probably be, by that time,
ravenous instead of what I was right then, starving.

Not to mention, I had two open fires burning
downstairs.

I sucked in breath.

Then I muttered, “I’m
never
telling Claudia
any
of this.”

Then I went to the ladder and down to see if
I could unearth any cleaning supplies.

* * * * *

There were, indeed, cleaning supplies in the
back of a cupboard in the kitchen (if one could call them that, but
there was soap, what I took as parallel universe dish towels and
rags which weren’t much different from each other but the towels
were slightly finer material and definitely cleaner and I found a
broom and mop on the back porch).

Therefore, hours and hours and hours later,
the sun had long since set (way early if I estimated it right) and
I was done.

The floors were swept (and, proudly,
mopped). The cupboards wiped down. The rugs and furniture cushions
taken outside and beaten with this kind of enormous bent twig
fly-swatter thing I found in the shed. All the dishes, pots and
pans were cleaned, the cupboards (and the dead insects hiding
there) wiped out and dishes, pots and pans put back. The cobwebs
were swiped down, the surfaces of the furniture polished. The
windows were washed to a shine so I could actually see out. The
curtains carefully taken down, pulled outside and shook to within
an inch of their lives. The same with the pillows on the bed
upstairs.

BOOK: Fantasyland 01 Wildest Dreams
13.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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