Moody and the Beast

by Kristen Painter

  He also had the company of his staff, especially Elswood, his valet turned butler. The one member of his royal household staff who’d stayed loyal. That was something, wasn’t it?

  It absolutely was. And yet Robin often pondered how terrible a ruler he must have been that only a single member of his staff had sided with him. The rest had gone with Vesta. He knew she’d bribed them with money and jewels and promises of the fine life they’d have under her rule.

  How much of that was true now? Vesta wasn’t exactly a keeper of promises. No doubt there were those who regretted siding with her. He hoped there were, anyway. Even so, he wished most of them no ill will.

  Everyone did what they had to in order to survive.

  But he had very little communication with anyone in Limbo now. In the beginning, a few acquaintances had responded to his letters, but shortly after that, his letters had been returned, unanswered. Very clearly opened and read, but then resealed and sent back.

  He got the message. He was persona non grata, as the saying went. At least in Limbo.

  He yawned as he leaned against the railing. Maybe there was sleep yet to be had. Might as well try.

  He trudged back inside—to his enormous empty bed—and did his best to sleep, praying only that if he did, it would be deep and dreamless and free of fairies.

  He’d had nightmares enough already.

  Chapter Two

  Theo walked for hours. In part because her destination was deep in the heart of Shadowvale, but also because as she went through town, she slowed to take it all in. Shadowvale was nothing like the Kingdom of Limbo, and having never been outside of the kingdom, she wanted to see as much of this new place as she could.

  Some of the shops were open, and as tempted as she was to go in, what would be the point? She had no money, and her person was required elsewhere. And soon.

  So she walked on, content to look. She stopped outside a few of the food shops, mostly to inhale the delicious scents. Her stomach growled, but again, her purse wouldn’t let her indulge. She clung to the thought that there would be food soon. There had to be. Wouldn’t room and board be a requirement?

  She lingered at the window of the chocolate shop. She wasn’t sure how often she’d be allowed out once she entered service. It was very likely she’d have no days off. She’d be a servant, after all. And the lowest of all the servants, being the newest addition and only temporary.

  There was no reason to think any liberties would be extended to her. Not when she was here to fulfill a debt. She was expecting a tough year with few comforts, so whatever happened, she’d deal with it, just like she’d dealt with every other hardship that had come her way. That was one thing her life had prepared her for.

  After what seemed to be the heart of town, the streets became residential. The homes were so different from the thatched cottages and treehouses and stone bungalows of Limbo. The homes here all looked so pretty and perfect. Some had lights on inside, even at the late hour, but she knew that Shadowvale’s citizens were from all walks and creeds.

  What must it be like to live in a town like this?

  Supernaturals abounded here. So did humans. Although they weren’t as interesting to her now as they’d been before she’d spent nine hours with them on the bus. That had been plenty of time to study that species. Amazing how much some of them snored. And with their mouths open.

  An owl hooted far off, and not long after that, a wolf’s plaintive howl split the night. She liked those sounds. They made her feel at home. As much at home as she could feel in a strange place like this.

  The homes got bigger. And bigger. And scarcer. And then they went away altogether.

  Not long after that, she passed a school. Home of the Tigers, the sign proudly announced. Real tigers? That couldn’t be, could it?

  She picked up the pace a little anyway.

  She was in the country now, surrounded by nothing but trees and fields. Mountains rose up in the distance all around her. The sky above was bright with stars. It was lovely, really. A lot like Limbo. She kept going.

  Next up was a cemetery. Last Rest, it was named. A cluster of winged cats mewed at her from their perches on the headstones and from the top of a mausoleum. She wiggled her fingers at them. They were cute. They’d probably try to kill her if she attempted to pet one, but cute was cute. Even when it was deadly.

  The cemetery faded behind her, then the fields disappeared, too, and there was nothing but woods.

  An enchanted forest, to be exact. That’s what the sign had said at the beginning of the road that led into the amazing forest. The trees were incredibly tall and thick, and the air smelled like magic. Green and woodsy with an underlying hint of darkness. Very much like goblin magic. And fae, she supposed.

  She could understand why the exiled king made his home here. So far, this part of Shadowvale felt the most like Limbo. She shifted her bag to her other shoulder and trudged on. She was close now, according to the map in her head.

  The trees covered the road like a canopy, hiding the stars. It was dark, but clumps of sprite moss provided some light. Enough that every so often, she could just pick out a face in the bark of a tree, the sign a wood nymph lived there.

  She kept going, a little bothered that the walk was taking longer than she’d anticipated. She knew she’d slowed through town, but she was used to walking, and she’d picked up speed once she’d gotten past the houses. She’d run, but it wouldn’t do to arrive sweaty.

  Was that a hint of lavender in the sky? The sun must be on its way up. Or was it?

  She’d heard the sun didn’t shine here. That the skies were permanently gray, because the witch who’d created the town had done so to keep her vampire lover safe.

  If that was really the case, Theo was fine with that. Like most goblins, she preferred the cool shadows of the forest to the blazing sun. Limbo had bright days, but also long shadows. Its thick forests provided steady breezes, and the surrounding mountains meant daylight was short because the peaks blocked all but the highest sun.

  She turned down another street, wider than the one before. Blackthorn Drive. At the post, she stopped and stared back the way she’d come. The sky had to be lightening, because she could see the green of the leaves. Just like the forests of Limbo. No wonder the exiled king had come here.

  Although she wasn’t sure he’d had much of a choice.

  She faced forward again and noticed that the forest started to change at this point. The trees grew more twisted, the bark and leaves darker. Almost sooty. Like they’d been burned. She inhaled. There was no acrid smell of ash.

  She walked toward an iron arch across the road ahead. In the curve of the arch, Dark Acres was spelled out, but there was no gate, thankfully. A raven sat on one side of the arch, watching her as she passed beneath it.

  Signs of other houses appeared as she continued on. A chimney here, a weather vane there, the peak of a roof, a curl of smoke. But if she tried to see the house itself, or see more of it, all traces disappeared. The fog around her seemed to thicken. She stopped looking around and concentrated on following the map in her head.

  Eventually, she came to a street sign. Candlewick Court. She peered through the trees where the road bent. Mist rose off the pavement, making it hard to see the place that would be her home for the next year.

  Then a breeze caused a break in the fog, and she got a better look. The house that lay beyond was every inch goblin royalty. The deep-purple roof, curved gray stone walls, and embedded gems were all reminiscent of Fangmore. The palace he’d left behind.

  Right down to the skulls worked into the accents.

  It was a good reminder that while she was here to fulfill a debt, she needed to keep her wits about her. The king was exiled, not powerless. He was still a ferocious warrior. He hadn’t become king of the goblins because it was his birthright. He’d earned it in battle, just as every other goblin king had. In his case, by single-handedly capturing the orc king.

  She’d do wel
l to remember that. She started walking up the long, curving drive. He’d do well to remember she was also a goblin. Half, yes, but that half was just as fierce as could be, and as far as he would know, she was a hundred percent goblin. She would not be mistreated while she was here. Nor would she sacrifice her personal security.

  If the exiled king thought she’d be his new plaything and warm his bed during her tenure, he’d soon discover just how wrong he was.

  She took a deep breath as she climbed the stairs to the wide front doors. The stair risers were skulls, all facing out. The door handles were metal cast to look like bones. A mosaic of amethysts, iolites, and a mix of other gems decorated the sides of the doors, letting in some light, but allowing no one to see in.

  The entrance was beautiful and creepy. The true goblin aesthetic. She raised her hand to knock, but the door opened before she made contact.

  The goblin who answered was not the king, but based on his livery, she had a pretty good idea of who he was. Elswood Hardencourt. The only member of the royal staff who’d left with the king. That much she remembered from her history.

  His appraising glance raked over her. “Who are you?”

  He had to know she was a citizen of the realm. Her pointed ears and the iridescent sheen of her black hair gave that away. They matched his own. Although her hair was lacking the abundant streaks of silver threaded through his. And his hair, perhaps as a concession to living in the human world, was too short for the traditional braids.

  She made herself answer as pleasantly as possible. “I am Theodora Middlebright. I’ve come to fulfill the debt owed by my father to His Royal Highness Robin Gallow.”

  She dug into her jacket and took out the hard leather tube that housed the official indenture document. She handed it to him. “It’s all there.”

  He removed the scroll, unfurling it. He scanned the binding document. The map on the back had disappeared. Perhaps because she’d arrived?

  She knew each word of the indenture by heart, but the gist was her father had lost a game of slip one night in the palace kitchens. Out of money, he’d foolishly wagered a year of his life in service to the cunning card player across from him, a young man all had thought to be the butcher’s well-to-do cousin.

  A young man who’d turned out to be the newly crowned king.

  Elswood looked up at her. “This debt is owed by Welten Middlebright.”

  “Yes, that’s my father. The arrangement allows for a substitution so long as it’s for the better.” When Elswood still hesitated, she frowned, struggling not to snap at the man for failing to recognize the former king was getting a superior deal with her serving in her father’s place. “Are we going to stand here all day, or are we going to let the former king know I’m here?”

  Elswood’s gaze narrowed to seemingly focus on the little magical clock embedded in the heart of the document. She could see the numbers ticking down through the parchment, although they were backward to her. They’d turned from green to red three days ago, a warning that the time to make good on the debt was running out.

  His gaze lifted again, but he seemed to be looking beyond her and not at her. “You chose an unusual time to arrive.”

  Did he mean the early hour? “I came as quickly as my feet were able.”

  “I meant that there are only a few days left to begin the year owed on this note. Any later, and the note could have been called due.”

  “I’m sure you can understand my reluctance.” Not to mention her father had only recently told her about the indenture. And then only because she’d caught him packing and forced it out of him. As if he could have done this.

  Elswood backed away from the door. “You might as well come in and get to work, then.”

  “Thank you.” She exhaled softly, relieved that her year in service, for all that she was dreading it, had begun. She stepped inside.

  “Door, close.” The door did as Elswood commanded. Then he looked at her. “Follow me.”

  Interesting that standard goblin magic worked in this house. But she didn’t have long to ponder it. Or much of anything, really. He walked fast, barely giving her a chance to gape at the home’s interior. The exiled king had spared no expense in decorating. Rock crystal chandeliers, velvet drapes and brocade upholstery in vibrant jewel tones, vast displays of antique goblin weaponry, battle-scarred helmets, even a full suit of antique battle leathers on display by the entrance to some grand hall. Several large, open geodes displayed their gem interiors under spotlights that caused them to glitter.

  The home looked exactly as she’d imagined an exiled king’s home might look.

  It also looked very unlived in. But she didn’t guess His Lordship had much in the way of company after being cast out of his kingdom. There were consequences for the sins he’d committed.

  Elswood led her through a simple swinging door and down a set of steps. The décor changed as they passed through. It became much simpler. More utilitarian.

  She was in the servants’ part of the house now. The part she’d become the most familiar with, she supposed.

  “I’ll take you to your room first, then introduce you to Mrs. Baton. She’s the housekeeper. She can introduce you to the rest of the staff. I don’t have time for such things, as I’m His Lordship’s butler and very busy.”

  “I’m sure,” Theo said. She quickly added, “Thank you for your time.”

  He glanced back at her like he wasn’t sure whether that had been a sarcastic remark.

  It almost had been, but she’d modified her tone at the last moment. She smiled all the same to reassure him. As soon as he looked away, she stopped smiling. Curbing her natural inclination to bite back was going to be a chore.

  They went farther into the bowels of the house. All the windows were narrow transoms near the ceiling because this floor was technically underground. A sort of daylight basement. They passed an enormous kitchen with two women in it, another workroom that contained a long table, a couple of closed doors, a room that might have been an office, then they turned down a hall.

  He took her to the room at the very end.

  She doubted that with all these sleeping quarters, this was the only one available, but whatever. The location was perfectly acceptable to her. She didn’t want or need to be near anyone. In fact, this was better. The farther she was from other people, the less likely they’d annoy her. And she them.

  Going by doors, there were enough rooms for a staff of twenty. She’d seen two women in the kitchen, one much younger and clearly a helper. So a cook, a scullery maid, a housekeeper, Elswood, and who else? Maybe a footman? Perhaps a gardener? And her?

  It didn’t seem this house employed many more than that.

  She hoped that meant there wasn’t all that much work to be done instead of there being an overwhelming amount she’d have to handle on her own. Her shoulders were strong, but there was a limit to what anyone could do in a day. Taking on more than her fair share would definitely make her grouchy.

  Grouchier.

  He unlocked the door with a key on a chain attached to his waistcoat, then detached the key and handed it to her. “Get settled, then come to the kitchen. Five minutes. No more.”

  She took the key. “Yes, Mr.…” She couldn’t very well call him Elswood. But he hadn’t introduced himself either, and she didn’t want him to know she already knew who he was.

  “Mr. Hardencourt.”

  “I’ll be right there, Mr. Hardencourt.”

  He gave her a little nod and left.

  She tucked the key into her pocket and pushed the door open. The room was simple. A narrow bed with a stand next to it barely big enough to hold the bedside lamp. A small dresser and a chair. A slim mirror on one wall. Utilitarian to the extreme. She’d managed with about the same at home. What mattered was that there was a window and that it opened. Did it?

  She closed the door, dropped her bag on the bed, and stood on the chair to inspect the window. It opened easily, and the screen was simple t
o remove.

  A sense of relief went through her. She’d have a chance for fresh air. An escape, if needed. Which she imagined she would. Often.

  The window looked out onto a simple stone path, then the dark, twisted woods beyond. Interesting. Hopefully, the path wasn’t much traveled. She glanced down both sides of it as far as she could see. Did it go around the entire house? Might be worth checking out.

  She left her bag on the bed. She could put her few things away later.

  The kitchen was a big, bright space with an enormous marble island in the center. A round woman with an easy smile wiped her hands on her apron. She had a little smudge of flour on her forehead near the edge of her white cap. “Hello there. Mr. Hardencourt had to take care of something. He said we have a new staff member. How nice. We haven’t had one of those in…well, since Lolly replaced the last scullery maid five years ago. Welcome.”

  Theo nodded. The woman reminded her ever so slightly of her mother, making Theo like the woman instantly. It never hurt to be friends with the kitchen staff. “Thank you. I’m Theodora Middlebright. I’m here for a year’s service.”

  “Nice to meet you, Theodora, always glad to have more help. Many hands make light work. I’m Mrs. Applestock. I’m the cook.”

  The younger woman Theo had seen earlier came in with a flat of eggs.

  Mrs. Applestock pointed to her. “That’s Lolly. She’s the scullery maid, although she pitches in with housekeeping sometimes, too.”

  Lolly grinned and waved. “Hi.”

  “Hi, Lolly.” The girl was a little too cheerful, but Theo chalked that up to not having anyone new around in a long while. “You can call me Theo.”

  Both women were in simple lavender dresses with white aprons. Neither of the women had the pointed ears or shiny hair of a goblin. Theo wasn’t sure what they were. Human? Was that possible? Working for a goblin? Shadowvale was an interesting place.

  A stern woman entered, and Lolly’s smile vanished. The young woman bent her head and went to work wiping down what looked like already clean countertops.