by K. M. Shea
Elle released the breath she was holding but was still stiff with tension when she realized the cursed prince had her.
“Did it ever occur to you,” Severin said. “To try a few stairs, call it a success, and end it before it became a failure? Or, better yet, to strengthen your leg first by walking instead of going straight to climbing like a mountain goat?”
Severin held Elle secure as he descended to a stair lower than the one she stood on. Elle threw her arms around his hulking shoulders before he picked her legs out from under her and carried her down the remaining stairs.
“I have been trying to strengthen my leg,” Elle said, her hands clenching the fabric of his shirt.
Severin held Elle aloft even after they reached the main floor. “Then might I recommend you try more?” he said as he swiveled so they faced his servants.
Emele and Burke appeared to be congratulating each other. They didn’t even try hiding their smug smiles, and ignored Severin and Elle.
Elle frowned as she watched her gleeful ladies maid. “Thank you for your help, Your Highness. I am lucky you happened to be passing by.”
Severin narrowed his eyes as he too stared at his servants. “It wasn’t by chance. Burke was with me when Emele fetched him. The pair exchanged secretive words through their slates. As my sense of well being is keenly tied to the activities of Bernadine, Heloise, and Emele I thought it would be prudent to see what she was doing. Unfortunately I might have played right into her hands.”
“What do you mean?” Elle asked.
“Nothing. Emele, are you going to leave us standing here all day, or will you bring the crutches down?” Severin said, his voice was clear and piercing.
Emele sashayed down the stairs, sweetly presenting Elle’s crutches to her when Severin gently set her down.
Elle took the crutches and propped them under her arms. “Thank you again, Your Highness.”
“Think nothing of it,” Severin said before growling, “Burke.”
The brightly clothed valet saluted Severin.
“I will meet you in my study one hour hence. Do not be late,” Severin warned before he stalked across the room and up the far staircase.
Elle watched him go before she turned to face Emele. The ladies maid was wearing a triumphant smile, her shoulders were raised slightly and her skin glowed. She looked, almost, as if she had just been granted the dearest wish of her heart. It was odd.
“Emele,” Elle started.
Yes, Emele wrote as two housemaids swept past, carrying a rug that had just been aired out.
Elle thought for a moment and decided this was neither the time nor the place to start what was very likely to be an argument. “ I’m famished. Do you think we could visit Bernadine in the kitchens and take some refreshments?”
I don’t see why not
“Fantastic! Let’s go, shall we?”
Whatever you wish, Elle.
Elle chose not to confront Emele over her odd behavior until they took afternoon tea in the privacy of Elle’s bedroom.
“Emele, do you care to explain why you are so interested in my interactions with Prince Severin?” Elle asked, stirring sugar into her tea with a harmless smile.
Emele choked on the cookie she was consuming. She washed it down with a few sips of her tea before writing on her slate with controlled movements. What do you mean?
“I mean that your insistent intrusions beg me to believe there is more to your reason for asking me to befriend your master than a desire to stave off his supposed loneliness,” Elle said.
Isn’t it natural that I would want you, my close friend, to admire His Highness as well?
“Admire, perhaps. But you and all the servants in this chateau—with the exception of Marc, and he doesn’t notice anything that isn’t planted in the ground—push Severin and I together in the most tacky of ways.”
I don’t know what you’re referring to.
Elle arched an eyebrow. “Oh really? Very well. It doesn’t matter, I expect I will only be here until the end of the week. I will be returning home soon you know.”
Emele panicked and made several curls fall out of the ornate bun she had styled her hair in that day with the severity of head shaking she displayed. No, you can’t!
“And why can’t I?” Elle asked, she still smiled but her eyes conveyed no warmth at all.
Emele drooped. You’re so close.
“Close to what?”
Emele hesitated and wrote, I cannot tell you. His Highness should be the one to explain.
Elle leaned back in her chair and sighed in defeat. “I see.”
The dishes clinked as Emele gathered up the tea cups. Have you finished your tea?
“Yes.”
Then I shall return these to the kitchens. I will be back shortly.
“Thank you, Emele,” Elle said.
Emele dipped in an elegant curtsey before picking up the tray and bustling through the bedroom door.
As she had several times before, Elle waited until Emele’s footsteps disappeared down the hallway before she snatched up her crutches. She made her escape, heading in the opposite direction that Emele disappeared in.
“If she doesn’t want to tell me that’s fine. I’ll just have to ask His Highness myself,” Elle said as she hurried up the hallway. After crossing several twisted hallways, Elle stopped outside Severin’s study.
“Enter,” Severin said after Elle knocked on the door.
Elle opened the door. “We need to talk,” she said when Severin looked away from the tall, ornately framed mirror he was staring at.
“Then sit down, and let us talk,” Severin said.
Elle set her crutches aside before closing the study door and slowly walking up to a chair pulled in front of Severin’s desk.
“Impressive,” Severin said when Elle seated herself. “You have increased in strength and ability. You wish to depart for your home soon?”
“Yes, but that’s not what I want to talk about,” Elle said.
Severin nodded and leaned back in his chair.
“Your servants seem to have a vested interest in our friendship. I noticed from the onset when they insisted that I—an assumedly ill mannered peasant—dine with you—a prince—as soon as I was fit to. I paid no mind to it, until recently. They seem to be increasing their antics. I want to know why.”
Severin rubbed his forehead. “They refuse to tell you?”
“Yes.”
“I take it, then, that you do not know the nature of my curse?”
“I only know that you were cursed by a wicked witch, and a beautiful enchantress broke off the worst of it,” Elle truthfully reported.
Severin nodded. “The original curse made me not only look like a beast, but think and act like one as well. The enchantress was able to break off the psychological aspects of the curse, but not the physical. However, she supposedly was able to create a way to entirely destroy the curse.”
“How can you break it?” Elle asked when Severin didn’t continue.
Severin rolled his shoulders, making the fur leaking out of the collar of his waistcoat fluff up. “By falling in love, or by being loved,” he finally said.
Elle stared at Severin in stunned silence.
“She said it is because love is the most powerful, healing emotion humanity is capable of,” Severin said, his voice slightly defensive.
“I see. I would not disagree with that.”
“But?”
“But I would not think it would be very easy to fall in love when one is self-exiled in an abandoned chateau.”
“You are correct, and that is why I am here,” Severin said.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Severin turned in his chair to stare at the wall that was covered in maps. He was silent for a few moments before he spoke slowly, like the words were costly gems he was reluctant to part with. “I made previous… attempts to break the curse to no avail. It did nothing but bring me shame and break the hearts of my servan
ts when the curse was not lifted. Rather than live in the continuous pressure of misleading hopes I resolved to move here.”
Elle frowned. “And you entirely gave up on breaking the curse? That hardly seems like you.”
“It has been proven to me that this curse can never be broken. Women claim to love me, but in their hearts they love my title, or wealth, or my family connections, but never me,” Severin said, avoiding Elle’s eyes.
Elle’s frown took on a shade of sadness. “It saddens me to hear you say that, though I can understand how you came to that conclusion. Do you have no hope of breaking the curse at all?”
Severin raised his oddly pupiled eyes to meet Elle’s gaze. For a moment Severin saw what his servants could see in Elle. He saw the compassion in her face and the way she did not shrink from his intimidating gaze. He recognized the sparkle of intelligence in her beautiful eyes, and her humble, unadorned beauty instead of criticizing the size of her mouth or the length of her nose. Severin blinked and squashed the thoughts like unwanted bugs. “No, no hope at all,” he echoed.
“I see,” Elle said.
The silence stretched for a few moments before Severin spoke again. “I apologize if my servants have made you uncomfortable in any way, or if they raised… expectations.”
Elle shook her head. “There is nothing to apologize for. I was merely curious. It is I who in all probability needs to apologize for thrusting myself into your confidence.”
“That is not necessary. Your questions were logical,” Severin said.
A quirk of a smile folded the edges of Elle’s lips. “Perhaps, or maybe it was another example of, how did you phrase it? Poking my nose in someone else’s business for the fun of it.”
Severin shrugged. “It is one of your charms.”
Elle hooted in laughter. “Isn’t that a boldfaced lie? I will miss our conversations when I leave this place.”
“You mean to leave soon, then?” Severin asked.
“I haven’t talked to Duval about it, but I think I will be strong enough this week,” Elle said, slowly rising to a standing position.
Severin flatly stared at her. “You are not back to a peak physical condition.”
“No,” Elle agreed. “But I’m not sure how much longer the crown will tolerate my absence without a punishment.”
Severin stood as well, looming above Elle. “You have nothing to fear. As little as I like to claim the relationship, might I remind you that I am a part of that family. I will inform whatever steward is in charge of your contract that you are to be forgiven for your absence.”
Elle smiled. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
“Severin. With all the soul baring we have experienced in this past hour calling me by my title seems ridiculous,” Severin dryly said.
“Then thank you, Severin.”
“You are welcome, Elle.”
Duval carefully ran his hand along the smooth, unblemished skin of Elle’s mending leg. He watched her stand and walk at the speed of a crawling turtle around the room—unaided.
You experience no pain?
Elle shook her head. “No. It aches if I stand on it too long or if I jar it, but it’s getting better.”
Duval nodded. Good.
“Well?” Elle asked.
Duval twisted his lips. There is no way to tell how well the bone has mended, but I believe it is safe for you to try walking without your crutches provided you do not exhaust yourself. You will need to work at regaining your muscles and sense of balance.
“What about going home?” Elle asked.
You are not strong enough to walk back.
“No, but could I ride a horse, or go in a carriage?” Elle asked.
Duval glanced at Emele, who was twisting a handkerchief. Yes, he finally wrote. However, I recommend you wait until the end of the week to depart and work on regaining your strength until then.
“Would Saturday be an acceptable date?” Elle asked.
Duval wrote with the swiftness of a snail. I suppose.
“Excellent!” Elle said, smiling widely until she noticed Duval and Emele exchanging morose looks. “Come now, you two. It’s not like I’m dying.”
No, Emele wrote, but you are leaving us.
“I will come back to visit, I promise.”
It won’t be the same, Emele wrote, her lower lip trembling.
Elle’s lips twisted into a wry grin. “You mean after I leave the chances that I will break Severin’s curse are significantly lower?”
Duval’s mouth flapped like a flag, and Emele dropped her slate.
“Oh yes,” Elle said. “I know all about your secret plans.”
Emele covered her face with her hands.
Duval recovered long enough to write, How?
“Severin,” Elle said.
Duval hung his head, and Emele bent to retrieve her slate.
I did not mean to use you, Elle. The maid earnestly wrote.
Elle’s smirk softened. “I know, Emele. I do not doubt that you genuinely like me, but an eligible maiden was too good of a chance to pass up, I suppose?”
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.
