Page 3 of A Minotaur Tale
"I'm terribly sorry about that," Catrin said, with little Bjorn on her hip.
The first time Cora had seen the woman, she'd honestly thought she was some sort of strange dwarf. She was short, like many dwarfs but had white hair, which only came to dwarves with age. She was human, so Cora had never seen anyone like her. Her three children, however, were all half-orcs, and bore the green skin and size to prove it. Her oldest children, twins, were eight and already they stood eye to eye with their mother.
"Cora," the girl, Ursule, whispered. "I can't wait for you to see our outfits tomorrow!"
Though she tried to be quiet, she did squeal a bit when she spoke.
"Outfits? For what?" It was certainly possible that Catrin might bring the children by on solstice for a visit, but it would certainly spark a new step in their friendship if they spent the holiday together.
"The ball!" Ursule spun in a circle, flaring her skirt out around her legs as her voice took on a dreamy quality.
"Oh," Cora said. "I'm afraid I won't be attending."
"No?" Halsten, Cat's eldest boy piped up.
"I can't, I'm afraid. You see, I've a lot of work to do, andnothing to wear!"
“Oh, that’s so sad!” Ursule’s face was awash with horror, though Cora couldn’t find it in her to sympathize.
A large, stuffy room, packed with people? It sounded a nightmare. Not to mention the fact that Cora would need to make hours of small talk, considering she’d certainly not have anyone to attend with. No, a lack of attire was a perfect excuse to avoid the occasion entirely, and she was grateful to have it.
“Now, kids, let’s not pry into Miss Cora’s life or reasons for not attending, perhaps you can wear your finery on a special trip to the library some other time!” Catrin said, ushering her children toward the door.
“What a splendid idea! Goodbye dears!” Though she normally loved them, Cora was only too happy to see the family go. The excitement over the ball and all of the other holiday festivities was wearing on her. She’d had more conversations on the matter than she could count, and frankly, she was ready for it all to be finished, andfast.
As the hours wore on, Cora finally motivated herself to pack up and head home, such as it was, around ten. She lived on the third floor of the library, with a balcony that overlooked the stacks, but she always made a point to leave through the front doors so she couldensure they were locked up tight. Which, of course, meant confronting the infernal decorations once more. The council was responsible for decorating all public spaces in the city, so she had little say in the outside of the library, which apparently included the doorway. The festive sprig had appeared overnight, and though she herself was a bit of a humbug, she left it previously, not wanting to ruin the tradition for whatever culture it belonged to.
Leaving the library that evening, though, she fetched a ladder to remove it. The mistletoe particularly bothered her, though she was unable to figure out why. Perhaps it was its especially festive nature, with its bright ribbon. Perhaps it was because it marked the entrance of her door, but she didn't understand the significance. Perhaps, it was because she had a sneaking suspicion it was a minotaur tradition.1
She hadn't done any research on the matter; she'd not go out of her way to find out such things about Asterion's culture. Instead, she'd just happened to notice, on one of her nightly strolls, that he had one hanging above his lintel, with a similarly shaded ribbon. They were all over, of course, even some dwarveshad adopted them, but it didn'tfeelas if it were a simple coincidence.
Removing the mistletoe, like pushing him away, failed to have its desired effect. Instead, she felt like a curmudgeon, stuffing the festive little posy in her pocket before anyone could see. The rest of the decor would be down in a week or so anyhow, and perhaps even if she felt guilty just then, it would do her good to not look at it all day.
Clutching her long winter coat around her, Cora navigated the bustling streets of Berggeheimnis.2 With her parents away visiting Sanctuary–a city far to the north that housed a group of people who lived free of the Empire’s influence–for the holiday, Cora found herself entirely alone. Accompanying them was an impossibility, and Cora didn't begrudge them their important work building connections there. Her holiday the following day, though, would be a quiet, private affair, when she was used to a cozy time with family.
Weaving in between happy faced people, Cora finally arrived at her own door. Built into the side of the cavern wall,she had a round door that she and her father had fitted to a natural opening in the rock. As she approached her cheery yellow door, Cora spotted a nondescript package sitting on her front stoop. Though they were away, her parents, in their infinite sweetness, must have arranged for a surprise in their absence.
Picking it up, she noted that the handwriting on the accompanying card belonged to neither of her parents, but perhaps their secret accomplice had labeled it instead. Upon entering, Cora sat the package and her most recent novel down on her kitchen table and stoked the fire. The gift only reminded her of how alone she was and perhaps she’d want something to open in the morning. She changed into some comfortable pajamas and made herself a modest meal of cold roast beef, mustard, hard cheese and bread. She brewed a cup of tea, and huddled up, as she was wont to do of an evening, with her supper and her book near the fire.
As she ate, with a book purchased with her own money lest she smudge it, the words swam in front of her eyes, the blurriness of tears marring her vision. She hadn't any idea why she was crying. Shelikedto keep her own company. Her chest gave a shot of pain that countered her insistence. She wasverylonely, after all.She'd dreamt of a home filled with warmth and laughter, of children she could adore, who would bear only half of her abilities and be able to explore the world in ways she couldn't. She'd dreamt of a life that expanded her own world enough that she didn't care it was confined to a singular mountain. But the walls of her cozy home felt as if they closed in on her, limiting the extent of her life with their constriction.
Tears fell heavy, marring the pages of her book. Her food tasted bland, her increasingly stuffy nose dampening the taste.
It was no use, her food tasted like nothing, and she wasn't hungry anyhow. Cora stood to return her plate to the table and fetch a handkerchief. The small package waited there for her, a small point of brightness in an increasingly dark day. Perhaps she needed the joy it would bring tonight more than in the morning. Admiring the simple but tidy wrapping, she pulled the card off the rich red paper.
1. The tradition of mistletoe is indeed a minotaur tradition, among many others..
2. Though the entirety of the city was underground, its cove, open to the ocean, still allowed gusts of wind, bearing the outside climate, to penetrate the mountain and necessitated seasonal attire.
Chapter three
Dear Cora,
I fear I may have misstepped, adhering to customs which you do not follow, and inadvertently hurt you, or our chances. Still, I'm a man who knows his own heart, and it is set on you. When a minotaur decides to court someone, we take it upon ourselves to study our hopeful partners. During that time, we are not wont to socialize with them, as we might be tempted to ask them for information instead of work for it. I have tried my best to study all that pertainsto you and learned early on in my research about the mating habits of nymphs. I immediately felt as if such habits did not fit what I knew of you and set to court you in the minotaur fashion instead. I can only hope this was not entirely in error.
You see, the end of this study culminates in a grand gesture which should prove to our hopeful mate how we value them. Over the course of this eve, I will deliver to you three gifts, representing the past, the present, and the future I hope to share. Expect the first gift when the bell tolls one.
Ever yours,