Deliciously Deadly: a Red Riding Hood retelling

Chapter 13

Uncovering a man's deepest, darkest secrets could be a challenging task, especially when said man disappeared and left Lottie to her own devices on the same night he made his solemn promise never to leave her.

She'd never felt anything akin to anger and resentment towards Cain, but in the coming days, she stewed in silent fury. What else was there to do on her own?

At first, Demon dropped by for minutes each day to shove more foul-smelling, bitter-tasting teas in her face, but once he'd deemed her sufficiently healthy again, he too vanished.

For some time, Lottie stuck to the familiar parts of the Den, praying for Cain's swift return while she went back and forth between resting in her small room and filling her belly in the large dining chamber. Soon enough, she realised he was not coming back any time soon, and this was not the life she was used to.

Growing up, while Grandma busied herself with spinning and weaving, Lottie helped around the house with cooking, baking, cleaning, sewing and gardening. After marrying Cain, she continued to do all of that and farming. For as long as she could remember, she had always been busy with something. And as her strength and health returned, every idle hour spent sitting around twiddling her thumbs only made her stew more.

When she stewed enough, she came to the conclusion that if Cain wasn't going to allow her to learn more about him, she would learn more about the Den instead.

Even outside of meal times, she began to loiter in the large chamber where people gathered and talked, gambled and fought. Sometimes, she ventured into the working districts and admired the skilled craftsmen in their works with wood, metals and leathers.

At first, she kept her head down and kept herself as small as possible as she watched and listened, but just as a gem can only disguise itself as a rock for so long, one day, she was seen even as she hid in the shadows.

"Ye good with yer needles, girl?" A middle-aged woman working wool through the spinner asked. When Lottie did not respond, the spinner said gruffly, "I'm askin' ya."

Lottie pointed to herself. "Who, me?"

"Who else, girl?"

She looked to her left and right and, indeed, she was the lone spectator in this little nook of the cavern. As inconspicuous she tried to make herself, it was rather difficult when she was the only one who wandered about on her own with nothing to do. Was the woman offering for her to do some needlework?

"Umm... I can sew," Lottie said.

"Good enough." The spinner beckoned her over with a hand.

Less than an hour later, Lottie was sitting at one end of a long table in the main chamber, smiling to herself with her head down. Except now, she wasn't just staring at the floor and her shoes, but her own busy fingers as they worked a needle and thread across the hem of a dark green sleeve.

Yes, I know some of you must be thinking to yourself: 'Perhaps the narrator has been right all along! Lottie must be stupid because who in their right mind would be happy doing something as boring and ordinary as sewing?'

But remember this, what Lottie had longed for for years was an ordinary life that consisted of ordinary, menial things like sewing. It was what she knew, what she was good at, even if she wasn't a professional tailor or seamstress by any means.

The familiarity of something as simple as picking up garments from the overfilled basket next to her, fixing every rip and tear, filled her with a sense of purpose and achievement she'd not realised she missed until she felt it again.

It reminded her of those simple, peaceful years with Cain that she'd not fully appreciated until they were gone. In a new place with new faces, that reminder brought comfort. But that comfort lasted only until she stretched her neck and found a crowd gathered around her.