Chapter 10 : A Princess Home

"There you are! You rueful child!" The sharp reprimand of her nanny sliced through the bustling activity of the kitchen like a knife, causing the servants to freeze in their tracks, their movements halted by the sudden tension in the air. With wide eyes and nervous glances exchanged amongst themselves, they scurried away to their tasks, leaving Miloslava standing amidst the chaos, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

With a firm hand, the nanny grasped Miloslava's arm, her grip tight and unyielding as she pulled the princess to her feet. Her expression was stern, disapproving, as she regarded Miloslava with a mixture of frustration and concern. "This is no place for a princess," she scolded, her voice a sharp reprimand that cut through the air like a whip. "You should know better than to cavort about in the kitchen like a common servant. Come now, child. It's time to leave."

Miloslava offered a bright and cheery smile in response, her demeanor unshaken by her nanny's admonishments. "Alright, alright. I'm going," she replied, her tone light and playful as she acquiesced to the older woman's demands. "But before I depart, I must thank Mistress Cook once more for her delicious soup. It truly was a delight."

With a wave, Miloslava bid farewell to the cook, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she turned to follow her nanny out of the kitchen. But even as the older woman continued her nagging tirade, chiding Miloslava for her impulsive behavior and admonishing her to act more like a proper princess, the young girl remained unfazed.

For in Miloslava's eyes, life was meant to be lived with joy and spontaneity, with laughter and adventure at every turn. She understood the importance of duty and decorum, of course, but she also believed in the value of embracing the simple pleasures of life—the warmth of a hearty meal, the camaraderie of friends, the thrill of exploration.

"Your father has important guests tonight. So don’t even think about going out." The nanny's admonition hung in the air like a heavy cloud, her voice tinged with a sternness that brooked no argument. With a decisive click, she locked the door behind her, sealing Miloslava within the confines of her chamber.

But to Miloslava, her nanny's voice seemed to fade into the background, mere background noise against the backdrop of her racing thoughts. Her mind wandered freely, unfettered by the constraints of her current surroundings, as she daydreamed of the countless adventures that awaited her beyond the confines of the palace walls.

She envisioned herself galloping through the countryside on horseback, the wind whipping through her hair as she raced across open fields and through lush forests. The thrill of the ride sent shivers of excitement coursing through her veins, her heart pounding with the exhilaration of freedom.

And then there were the hidden treasures waiting to be discovered in forgotten ruins—the promise of adventure and mystery beckoning to her like a siren's call. Miloslava imagined herself exploring ancient tombs and crumbling castles, uncovering long-lost artifacts and unraveling the secrets of the past with each new discovery.

But perhaps most of all, she longed for the simple pleasure of dancing beneath the stars on a warm summer's night, the soft grass beneath her feet and the gentle breeze caressing her skin as she twirled and spun in a graceful ballet of movement and light.

As these thoughts danced through her mind, Miloslava couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement coursing through her veins—a sense of anticipation for the endless possibilities that lay ahead. For she had hatched a plan, a daring scheme that would allow her to break free from the confines of her gilded cage and embark on the adventure of a lifetime.

Miloslava descended from her window, her heart pounding in her chest with the exhilaration of her daring escape, she landed lightly on the barren ground below. The cold touch of the earth beneath her feet sent a shiver of excitement coursing through her, fueling her determination as she set off across the desolate landscape.

With each step she took, Miloslava felt the weight of her confinement lifting from her shoulders, replaced by a sense of liberation that filled her with newfound energy and purpose. She ran with the abandon of a wild creature set free from its cage, her feet pounding against the hard-packed earth as she raced across the barren terrain.

The wind whipped through her hair, carrying with it the scent of freedom and adventure as she sprinted towards the distant horizon. The landscape blurred around her, a mosaic of muted colors and jagged silhouettes that seemed to dance and sway with the rhythm of her footsteps.

By the time she reached the outskirts of a nearby village, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the landscape in its wake. Dusk settled over the land like a comforting blanket, bathing everything in a warm golden glow as Miloslava slowed her pace, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she surveyed her surroundings.

The village lay before her, its quaint cottages and bustling streets illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns and torches. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, mingling with the fading light of day as hushed sounds of laughter and conversation drifted on the evening breeze.

With a sense of relief washing over her, Miloslava made her way into the heart of the village, her eyes alight with excitement and wonder as she took in the sights and sounds of this new and unfamiliar world. It was a place of endless possibilities, a world beyond the confines of palace life where adventure awaited at every turn.

As Miloslava wandered through the winding streets of the village, her eyes wide with wonder and curiosity, she soon caught the attention of an elderly woman who watched her with keen interest. The woman's weathered face was lined with age and wisdom, her eyes sharp and piercing as they studied the young girl who seemed out of place amidst the bustling throng of villagers.

Approaching Miloslava with slow, measured steps, the elderly woman smiled kindly, her voice gentle as she spoke. "Well now, what do we have here? You look like a lost little bird, my dear. What brings you to our humble village?"

Miloslava hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond to the woman's probing gaze. But something about the woman's warm demeanor put her at ease, and she found herself opening up to her in a way she hadn't with anyone else before.

"I...I'm not from around here," Miloslava admitted, her voice soft and tentative. "I...I ran away from home."

The woman's eyes widened. There was no judgment in her gaze, only compassion and understanding...and perhaps surprise at such truthfulness. "Ah, I see," she said softly, reaching out to pat Miloslava's hand in a gesture of comfort. "Well, you've come to the right place, my dear. My name is Yaga, and I am the village medicine woman. If you're in need of shelter and a warm meal, you're welcome to stay with me for the night."

Miloslava's heart swelled with gratitude at the woman's offer of kindness, and she nodded eagerly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Thank you, Yaga," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "Thank you so much."

As Miloslava settled into Yaga's cozy cottage, her eyes alight with curiosity, she couldn't help but notice the array of herbs and potions that lined the shelves, their earthy scents mingling with the warm aroma of the crackling fire.

"What are you making?" Miloslava asked, her voice filled with genuine curiosity as she peered over Yaga's shoulder at the bubbling cauldron that hung over the flames.

Yaga smiled kindly, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she glanced at Miloslava. "Ah, this is a potion I'm brewing for a local woman in the village," she explained, her voice soft and gentle. "Her marriage has been suffering since the birth of her child, and she's come to me for help."

Intrigued, Miloslava edged closer to the cauldron, her eyes wide with interest as she watched Yaga work her magic. With practiced hands, the elderly woman pounded Maral root in a stone bowl, the rhythmic sound echoing through the room like a heartbeat.

"What does the potion do?" Miloslava asked, her curiosity piqued as she observed Yaga's movements with fascination.

Yaga paused, her gaze thoughtful as she considered Miloslava's question. "This potion is meant to restore balance and harmony to the woman's marriage," she explained, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "The birth of a child can be a joyous occasion, but it can also place a strain on even the strongest of relationships. This potion is designed to ease the tension and reignite the flame of love between husband and wife."

As she spoke, Yaga added the Maral root paste to the boiling liquid, her movements slow and deliberate as she stirred the concoction with a wooden spoon. The aroma that filled the air was earthy and rich, with undertones of sweetness and spice that tantalized Miloslava's senses.

Fascinated by the alchemy unfolding before her eyes, Miloslava watched in silence as Yaga worked her magic, her heart swelling with admiration for the woman's skill and compassion. In that moment, she realized that there was far more to Yaga than met the eye—that beneath her humble exterior lay a depth of knowledge and wisdom that was truly awe-inspiring.

"Please teach me," Miloslava said softly, her eyes gleaming with the spark of knowledge as she looked up at Yaga with earnest determination.