The Eye of the Beholder Read Online Free PDF Page A

stumble upon me unwittingly. My castle was situated in the midst of a dark and forbidding forest, which would surely deter even the most foolhardy of maidens. The growth was so thick that it would be difficult at best to find it, even if one did manage to evade the wolves and bears that prowled the edges of the forest.
    It seemed the enchantress had placed an unbreakable curse upon me. I wondered if she watched me from wherever she was, laughing at me and my misfortune. I was a mad fool to cling to the hope that I might one day again be man.

Chapter 4: The Fateful Journey

    Though they weighed upon me heavily, I tried to put Papa's words out of my mind. I knew it was wishful thinking to believe that nothing would ever change, but the simple truth was I was so comfortable with my world as it was that I actively rebelled against the idea of change. My life had been full of so many uncertainties that I did not relish the idea of embracing yet more of them, and it frightened me to think of actively trying to seek out a husband who might suit me. Papa and I were devoted to one another, we were of like mind, and we were comfortable in one another's company; that was more than enough for me. He was correct that Thomasina and Rowena required only some small measure of wealth so that they could surround themselves with objects, but objects would never satisfy me. No, I longed for something far more precious: I longed for freedom, and I did not imagine I would ever find that as someone's wife.
    Papa's woodworking shed was normally a haven in which I felt comfortable sharing my every thought with him, but this one was the exception. I feared he might either think me unnatural or even scoff at my having such thoughts. Were I a man, I could have talked openly about such desires. As a woman, I must attempt to navigate the waters as best I could. It would have been far easier to simply settle for a decent marriage to a boring man, but I wanted none of that. There was something about a marriage of convenience that struck me as terribly mercenary.
    "You look especially pensive today," Papa said, pulling me from my thoughts.
    "I was simply trying to determine if we have enough flour to last us the month," I replied, making an effort to smile naturally. Papa studied me with a dubious expression, but apparently decided to let the matter be.
    "What do you think?" He rubbed a soft cloth over the back of the chair he had just finished. I walked around it in a circle, inspecting it from all angles. The distraction was welcome, but I was even more gratified by the opportunity to admire his artistry.
    "It is wonderful." My voice was soft with pride. "It is even better than your sketch. May I?" I reached a hand out toward the chair and Papa beamed.
    "Of course, my Mira." He took a step back, allowing me to move closer and run my hand over the chair's smooth, flawless surface.
    It had shamed and frustrated Papa how long it took for him to learn some menial tasks, so I had watched with a great deal of trepidation the day he had gone for his first carpentry lesson. Several items in our home had been badly in need of repair, and Papa had resolved to fix them himself for we could not spare the money to hire someone. In exchange for Papa's assistance with some menial tasks, the local carpenter had consented to teach my father some of the basics.
    It was almost as if Papa had always possessed an innate ability, one of which he knew nothing and, in the space of a mere few months, his skill exceeded that of his teacher. Under Papa's hands, ordinary wood was transformed into the most beautiful objects. He had not only mended our broken furniture, he had also added several beautiful pieces to our cottage before deciding to try his hand at selling his wares. Several of the villagers had purchased his pieces, providing us with a little extra money. A few days ago, the blacksmith had ordered a bed, which would be his son's wedding gift.
    "Papa, it is so wonderful,"