TFT 01 Beauty and the Beast (18 page)

Emele considered Elle’s words before writing out a reply.
No, it was not merely that you are female. Or perhaps it was at first, but I really began to hope when I learned what a compassionate, spirited person you are.

Duval added,
Not just any girl is suited for Our Lord.

“No, I suppose not,” Elle said before she shook her head. “But I could have saved you the hope.”

You do not intend to fall in love?
Emele timidly asked.

“No, but thanks to my profession as an indentured servant to the crown I have certain prejudices against the royal family.”

Emele rolled her eyes.
Oh. Them. I assure you that His Highness is very different from his family.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Elle muttered

Emele started to write again, but Duval pushed her slate down presented his.
We thank you for your honesty. In spite of what appears to be ulterior motives, we have enjoyed your stay at Chanceux Chateau.

Emele read Duval’s slate and nodded.

Elle smiled. “Thank you, both of you. I really will miss you.”

Emele blinked rapidly to hold back tears before reaching out to embrace Elle.

“You’ll crush your dress,” Elle reminded the ladies maid.

Emele fiercely hugged Elle closer.

Elle was thankful Duval made a swift exit and Emele retreated to tend to the fire after the moment was over, giving her time to collect herself.

Chapter 10

Stranded

“It is too early for dinner. I trust you have a reason for closeting us here?” Elle said the following day when Severin led her into the empty dining room.

“I need to finish going through these missives,” Severin said. “I will never be able to read so long as I am apart from you. My servants have set themselves in a panic since your departure has been secured. If we are together they will undoubtedly leave us alone.”

“That fails to explain why we’re in the dining room,” Elle said, following Severin to the table—using her crutches.

Severin took up his normal seat at the head of the table. His back was to the fire and he set a stack of papers on the table where a bowl of a cut up, golden fruit was stationed. “The dining room is the best room for you to get physical exercise in.”

“I
hope
, Severin, that you are referring to the rehabilitation of my leg,” Elle said.

“Of course I am. What else would I be referring to?”

Elle used a crutch to point at the dining table. “The fact that I gorge myself on Bernadine’s dangerously tasty cooking?”

The corners of Severin’s lips curled for a moment. “In any case, you should walk around the room—without your crutches. It will be good practice.”

“I walk without Emele hovering and you get to read your letters in peace. It is a good exchange,” Elle said, leaning her crutches against the table.

“Go walk,” Severin ordered, immersing himself in his work.

Elle tottered off, correcting her posture and growing taller as she went. Making a lap around the table took more effort than Elle expected. When she paused near Severin to rest the cursed prince picked up the bowl of peeled, golden fruit and held it out to her.

Elle took a piece and popped it in her mouth. It exploded with sweet, citrus flavor. It was sweeter than an orange, and tasted much how Elle imagined the summer sun would taste. “What is this?” Elle asked.

“Pineapple,” Severin said, reaching for a letter with his right hand while setting the fruit down with the other.

“I have never heard of it.”

“I should think not. It’s a newly imported fruit from the far south kingdoms. We finally secured trade agreements with them this year.”

“Far south, so not our southern neighbors?”

“No, even farther south than them. Their climate is warm year round.”

“Imagine that,” Elle said, starting another lap.

“Mmhmm,” Severin said, engrossed in his letters.

Elle walked further and occasionally paused to flex the muscles in her ankles and legs. When she finished the lap by coming to a stop next to Severin, the prince again wordlessly held out the bowl of pineapple up for her.

Elle took a slice. “Delicious,” she decided.

Severin didn’t respond.

When Elle started her third lap a panting Jock squeezed in through the ajar door. He barked when he saw Elle and scurried to her side, his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth.

“Come along, Jock. You could use the exercise as well,” Elle said, patting the soft fabric of her dress before she set off.

Jock waddled after her, breathing heavily enough to make Severin glance up to see if he had flopped over.

Elle and the beautiful but overweight canine strolled, dallying at the far end of the room to view the room’s sparse décor and furnishings. When they finished the loop and ended at Severin’s side, Elle took her customary piece of fruit from Severin.

Jock danced in place as he watched Elle eat and licked his chops.

Elle reached into a hidden pocket of her dress, digging out a small piece of jerky to give the little dog.

Jock just about oinked in thankfulness, and after a minute he and Elle continued on their walk.

When the pair finished their fourth lap and Elle gave Jock his customary piece of jerky after taking a piece of pineapple from the bowl Severin offered, Elle paused. She looked from Jock to Severin to the bowl of fruit. “Am I being rewarded for walking?” she asked.

“Yes,” Severin said.

“Like a pet?”

“Yes.”

Severin looked up when Elle asked nothing further and was amused to see Elle’s puzzled expression. “Are you upset?” he asked.

“I’m trying to decide that,” Elle said. “Shamefully I don’t believe I am.”

Severin chuffed—the noise Elle learned to identify as his laugh. “I see,” he said when he recovered.

“If you do see I should get another piece of pineapple for my sweet, forgiving nature.”

Severin held up the bowl again. “How could I argue with such logic?”

“Thank you, I thought so too. But this negates the good that walking does me.”

“Hardly. Your weight is not yet a problem. It is the weakness of your muscles.”

“You certainly know how to reassure a lady.”

“You’re welcome.”

A few days later Severin and Elle once again made the pilgrimage through the blustery courtyard to the horse stables.

“You would think it is the middle of the winter, based on the temperature,” Elle said, grateful that Emele had insisted she wear a fur lined cape.

After the wind almost ripped the door from his grip, Severin barred the stable door behind them. “Ours is a cooler climate,” he grunted.

“Are you going to brush Fidele?” Elle asked.

“Yes, but that is not why we are here.”

“Oh?”

Severin pointed down the stable aisle. The draft horses had already retreated to the back of their stalls, and the carriage horses were snarling, but in the stall next to Fidele’s was a fuzzy, pony.

He was the size of a small horse, but thicker with a soft, round body. He was chestnut colored with a white star on his forehead. When Severin approached he did not shy away, but instead watched the cursed prince with bright eyes.

“You bought a pony,” Elle said, joining Severin at the pony’s stall. The pony was clearly ready for winter with a coat as thick and furry as a bear’s.

“Yes, a gelding—although his name his questionable.”

“What is it?”

“Rosemerry.”

Elle grinned at the sour looking Severin. “He sounds sweet. I am impressed he is calm with you.”

“He should be. I have given him so many apples Oliver fears he would grow ill if he is given many more,” Severin dryly said. “And he is not mine. He is yours.”

Elle, in the middle of scratching Rosemerry’s forehead for him, froze. “Pardon?”

“I bought him for your use.”

“Severin, I’m staying for a mere two more days. You shouldn’t have bothered.”

“You misunderstand. He is leaving with you,” Severin said. The wooden stall wall protested when he leaned his weight against it. “He will stay with you at Noyers. The hostlers expect your arrival, and his feeding and lodging has already been arranged.”

Elle shook her head. “I can’t.”

“I thought you said you liked horses?” Severin asked.

“I do,” Elle said. “It’s just…”

For the first time in their acquaintance, Elle was at a loss for words. When the pony leaned into her touch her face tightened and she narrowed her eyes. It took Severin a few moments to realize she was forcibly keeping herself from crying.

“It’s too much,” Elle finally said, turning to face Severin. “You’ve housed me and fed me for
weeks
, Severin,
and
you had an entirely new wardrobe made for me. You’ve already given me too much, I can never repay you.”

Severin tilted his head, his cat ears quizzically flicking. “You aren’t meant to. That’s what a gift means.”

“People don’t give me gifts,” Elle said. “I can take care of myself and my family without aid or assistance.”

“I don’t mean to imply you are incapable by giving you a gift. It is precisely the opposite,” Severin said. “Hasn’t anyone given one to you before?”

Elle looked at Rosemerry. “Not like this.”

“You alone carry your family’s financial burden?”

“Yes.”

Severin nodded. “I thought as much. You have a savior complex.”

“I do not!” Elle sputtered.

Severin cracked a feline smile at her. “You do. And you are nearly as proud as I am. I bought the pony only with the motivation of bringing you joy. You seem happier around animals. You told me yourself that you find animals soothing. I would send Jock home with you if I could, but Heloise loves the mongrel too much. You said you didn’t have a horse,” Severin trailed off with a shrug.

“But the dresses—.”

Severin sighed, which sounded more like an impatient growl. “Although I am pleased you are not greedy for more, I find your estimation of my wealth deplorable. The price of the dresses and Rosemerry are miniscule in comparison to my income. I—and my household—will feel no pain on behalf of these purchases. They will not even be noticed.”

Elle was silent for a moment before she chuckled. “Oh, they will be noticed! You can bet that Bernadine and Emele are consorting over the pony right now.”

“That is probably so.”

Elle stroked Rosemerry for a few good minutes before Severin finally spoke again. “Elle, take him.”

Elle scrunched her eyes shut. “Alright,” she agreed before opening her green eyes and smiling at Severin. “Thank you for the pony, Severin. I will treasure him.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less of you,” Severin said, turning around to walk back up the aisle.

“Where are you going?” Elle asked.

“To get the side saddle.”

“I beg your
pardon
?”

“He wouldn’t be any good to you without tack, would he?”

“The weather is too poor to ride outside,” Elle said.

“Naturally. You can perch on him in here and test how riding feels with your leg,” Severin said, returning with a ladies side saddle. “I bought you a regular saddle too in which you can sit astride in, but be careful in choosing when to use it. You will upset the delicate sensibilities of noble women, should they see you riding so,” Severin sneered, opening the door to Rosemerry’s box stall.

Elle watched the easy way Severin strapped the oddly shaped saddle on Rosemerry’s back. “You really like horses, don’t you?”

Severin glanced up as he tightened the saddle’s girth. “Yes. I spent much of my boyhood serving under the generals of Loire’s cavalry. I grew up on them.”

“You don’t get to be around them much anymore?”

“Not looking and smelling like this,” Severin shrugged.

“I’m sorry,” Elle said.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Sit lightly,” was the only warning Severin gave before he picked Elle up and perched her on the saddle.

Elle grasped Rosemerry’s neck as she heaved her legs into position. “Thank you for the warning.”

“You’re welcome,” Severin said, adjusting the placement of Elle’s leg on the saddle. “Now, I’m going to get his halter and lead him in the aisle. When I do you can grip his mane...”