Chapter 22

1.5K 48 17
                                    

Hidden within the mountainous Alps...

Silence filled the carriage as the old woman wrapped in fine lynx fur, sat on the burgundy leather seat lodged on one side of the carriage. Her old wise hazel eyes followed the surly young girl climbing the carriage and sat across the woman with beguiling composure, as the coachman brought their luggages inside.

The young girl felt the old woman's eyes trailing her every move, wanting to unravel the swirling mass of chaotic emotions she kept inside. She kept an indifferent face as she refused to be unnerved by the woman's burning gaze which she returned with a chilling cold shoulder.

If the old woman still thought she was still the same spoiled unruly brat she was once were as a child, then she has never been more wrong in her lengthy life. This was much more than a simple tantrum over some silly toy. This was a battle of the wills, one she was confident she will not loose. She refused to be treated like some child by letting her anger rule over her actions.

Instead, with a strong resolve, the young girl kept an indifferent air, pretending to take more interest on the white crystal frost on the side of the carriage window and thick biting deadly snow that she had grown to love, the place where she had built a place for herself, deep within this secluded mountain range.

The old woman sighed seeing that she will not be able to slip through any cracks in the hard walls of the stubborn child. She shifted her attention to glance at coachman who lifted the last of their luggage inside and passed him a gracious smile.

"Blagodarim vi, che ni pomognakhte."

(Bulgarian Translation: Thank you for assisting us.)

"Tis my pleasure, Madam Schmied." replied the coachman, tipping his hat to the woman whose charming smile, elegant style and her unwithering natural beauty despite her aged years, could still make a man of his age blush like a little lad.

"Vill soon begin our departure."

Grace Schmied nodded and turn her attention once again on her wayward grand daughter as they sat together face to face once again after much time passed.

She studied her young flushed face that complemented her ivory skin, her silky beautiful tresses tied into an intricate braid and the dark black abyss of her eyes where she hides her delicate soul from the world. The little child Grace had once never-endingly scolded for dirtying her clothes with dirt and oil from helping her equally unruly grandfather tinker with his old cars, was blossoming into a beautiful elegant young woman.

It was what she thought the last time Grace had visited her at her boarding school, till she discovered her wayward grand daughter had chugged a bottle of Madam Circe's Ever-Lasting-Hair-Color-Tonic that tainted her beautiful naturally colored hair into a dreary ebony black. In a flash, Mrs. Schmeid saw all the years she had spent pushing her grand daughter to take ballet and etiquette classes to force the child out of her tomboyish ways, all went down the drain.

Mrs. Schmied contemplated whether she should regret admitting precious Schatzi to one of the most infamous male-dominated dark arts academy, Drumstrang Institute. It was a thought that boggled her ever since the hair tonic stunt her grand daughter pulled. When Grace had told her grand daughter she was moving her to a different school, she knew the child would not take the news well. She was prepared for the screaming and the whining.

What Grace had not prepared herself for was the news that her grand daughter deliberately getting herself expelled from the school for blowing up the potion lab, vandalizing the school's trophy room, spreading questionable rumors about the school's head dean and fraternizing with great number of male students to help her with her shenanigans. Ever since her little Schatzi had knack for getting people to do her whims with her charisma and looks, the child had always kept a horde of little boyfriends and suitors to be at her beck and call.

EnchanterWhere stories live. Discover now