Stupid Girl: A Fantasy Adventure Based in French Folklore (Faite Falling Book 4)

Home > Fantasy > Stupid Girl: A Fantasy Adventure Based in French Folklore (Faite Falling Book 4) > Page 7
Stupid Girl: A Fantasy Adventure Based in French Folklore (Faite Falling Book 4) Page 7

by Mary E. Twomey


  I perked up at this. “Could I watch them here?”

  Lane quirked her eyebrow at me over her cup of tea. “Here?” She wore simple emerald dresses these days, but still looked regal. Then again, I would imagine anyone with servants tending to their every need might look royal. The dining room for royals consisted of a long mahogany table that could easily seat fourteen, though it was just the two of us that morning. There were dainty green and gold leaves painted on the walls in sporadic dots that made the room feel quirky, yet elegant – just like Lane.

  “In the mansion. I mean, your staff’s only a dozen or so people, plus all of us staying here. We’ve got a whole floor that’s basically unused down below.” I tapped my foot to the ground, indicating the basement.

  Lane gaped at me, as if praying she’d heard me wrong. “You mean the dungeon? You want to bring children in here to play in the dungeon?”

  “You got any bad guys down there?”

  “No, but still. Is that weird? ‘Hey parents, bring your kids over and let them lock themselves in my dungeon.’”

  “Better than locking themselves in a single-room hut for weeks on end. They’re probably going bananas all cooped up. I could keep them busy.”

  Lane mulled this over. “I’m sure everything they’re bringing into their homes is filthy with mud. I could offer for the children to bring their household’s linens and whatnot to the mansion to wash. I could provide the soap, and while the clothes are drying, they could play together in the dungeon.”

  “You know, if you call it a dungeon, people aren’t going to want to play there. It’s a basement.” I tapped my forehead sagely. “It’s all about the marketing.”

  Lane held up her hand in surrender. “Okay. If you can watch the kids and make sure no one actually locks themselves in a cell, that works for me. It’s got to be cleaned, though.”

  “Thank God. I’ve been looking for a chore anyone will actually let me do. I’m totally useless out there with the retaining wall. As soon as I pick up a bag, someone takes it from me. What the crap? They think I’m useless.”

  Lane smirked into her cup. “You can thank Bastien for that little maneuver. Before anyone joins them to help, he pulls them aside and makes sure they know you’re not to do any real work.”

  I frowned. “Are you serious? I can help! Why’s he treating me like I’m useless?”

  “He’s treating you how an Untouchable treats his woman. They’re revered, Ro. About as much as a princess, if you can imagine. Only instead of only Avalon, the entire world of Faîte bows to you.” She studied my reaction as she bit into her scone. “It’s heady, but comes with a certain amount of letting Bastien be good to you in the only way he knows how. This is his culture. Some things you two can compromise on, but some are just who he is. You’ve gotta decide what you can be cool with.”

  “Well, he doesn’t need to send the message that I’m a wuss.”

  Reyn chose that moment to venture out of bed. He was similarly stir-crazy, but less ready to conquer the world just yet. He paused by my chair to kiss the top of my head. “Bastien doesn’t think you’re a wuss; he thinks you’re valuable. Big difference.” When his eyes fell on Lane, they both sighed the same contented breath. “Good morning, lovely.”

  “Good morning, sweetheart. Come have breakfast with us.”

  Being around the two of them was a bit like watching pre-mating rituals at a very polite zoo. There were flirty hand touches, too many public kisses, sweet giggles and gooey eye gazes that made you feel like you were intruding on their falling in love moment. Only they were falling in love every day, every time they got near each other. It was precious, if not totally freaky. I’d never seen Lane with a dude before. As Lane explained my idea of inviting the kids into the dungeon, she did even this with “honey”, “sweetheart”, and “love” thrown in every other sentence.

  Though Reyn’s skin still looked sunken in, and his movements weren’t as lithe, he perked up at the idea. “I love it. I’ll help. I’m so tired of resting.”

  Lane’s eyebrows pushed together. “But you’re supposed to be healing up, Reyn. I want you whole.”

  “I want me whole, too. I promise not to use any of my magic.”

  “You know it’s not that simple.”

  He jabbed his finger at me. “It is if this one’s watching me. She’s tough.” He kissed Lane, lulling her into going along with his idea. “I’ll just sweep, and the second I feel fatigued, I’ll go straight back to bed.”

  “Liar,” Lane accused. “I don’t like you doing too much.”

  Reyn crossed his left ankle over his right knee, taking a bite of her scone. “Now, what’s that you just got done telling our Rosie? Something about compromise and letting people be who they are? I’m not a waif, Lane. I’m a man. I’m a man who wants to help rebuild your kingdom, however I can.”

  They kissed for the millionth time, so I shoved the rest of my scone in my mouth and washed it down with the dregs of my tea. “Peace out, lovers. I’ll see you in the dungeon, Uncle-Dad.”

  Reyn raised his cup to me, while Lane choked on her tea at my phrasing. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to the two of them, but seeing Lane that happy was well worth the effort.

  The Cheat Sheet

  “Remind me again why I said I wanted to help sweep?”

  “Because you wanted to be treated like a man.” I dipped the rags in the bucket of soapy water and scrubbed another line down the wall. The bubbles trailed down the drab, gray concrete, chasing each other toward the freshly swept floor. “It’s already looking loads better than it did when we started. We’re not too far off from being finished.”

  “You truly have no idea how vast this dungeon is.”

  “Nope, but if I keep telling myself we’re almost done, one of these times it’ll be true.”

  Reyn kept his eyes on his broom, but never ceased to run out of conversation. “You want to talk about taking Bastien’s mark?”

  “Not really. Still haven’t made up my mind. Too many things are in flux to make a big decision like that. We only just got back together. I feel like we need a solid month of not breaking up before I tattoo the guy’s name on my butt.”

  Reyn’s nose scrunched. “That’s not how they do the mark.”

  “I know. I was kidding. My whole life lately kind of all feels too good to be true, but still too terrible to be real.”

  “Hopefully Bastien’s the good part.”

  “He is. Model boyfriend, actually. Better than I deserve, for sure. The terrible part is the fact that I’m not done finding the jewels. My dad’s still holed up in the castle, and I can’t get to him.” I mentally kicked myself for the fifteenth time that week. “He didn’t even know it was me. I should’ve told him.”

  “Cowardice never did suit you.”

  I bristled. “All that bedrest sure put a mouth on you. How’re you feeling? You sneaking any magic past me I don’t know about?”

  Reyn moved from one cell to the next, sweeping the gray pile of too many decades of abandonment out into the center aisle. “You don’t have to worry about that. I want to get better more than anyone else.” He paused his work to study me. “I want to marry Lane, Rosie. And I want that as soon as I can possibly have it.”

  I swallowed down the nerves that came with such adult conversation. “That’s what Lane wants, too.”

  “I know. Is that what you want?”

  I kept my back to him as I washed the wall. “I want Lane to be happy. If you’re the guy for the job, then yeah, marry the crap out of her. I’ve got no issue with you two happily-ever-aftering each other until the end of time.”

  Though I’d already told Lane as much, he seemed to have needed this confirmation direct from the source. “That’s a relief.”

  “Honestly, my opinion doesn’t matter in this equation. I’m the kid. Lane’s a big girl. She knows how to make good decisions.”

  “Ah, but you’re her best friend. She abandoned her kingdom and her ma
nsion for you. She gave up her title and ran away to Common to face homelessness and poverty because of her love for you. Your vote is almost as high as her own, so I’m grateful to have you in my corner. I love her very much.”

  I still couldn’t bring myself to look at him, but continued scrubbing the wall. “Then you should know she says she hates extra tomatoes on her pizza. She actually really likes the way it tastes with too many tomatoes, but refuses to order them because she says it makes her pizza generic.”

  “Okay.” Reyn answered me slowly, unsure what to do with the totally useless information.

  “And she portions out her root beer floats, because if you add too much root beer, there’s not enough ice cream to balance it all out. So let her add her own. Just give her a mug of ice cream and a cold root beer in the bottle still.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what a root beer float is. Is it something important?”

  “To her, it is. You’ll learn, and when you do, pay attention to the little things that make her a gem. She dances when she cooks. Did you know that?”

  “I admit, I’ve never cooked with her in a proper kitchen. There are servants here, and every other time we’ve shared a meal, it’s been on the road.”

  “You should cook with her. She likes eighties pop girl bands when she’s making dessert, and nineties female divas like Mariah Carey when she’s making a dinner she loves. If you don’t switch the stations between the two, she’ll get irritable while making dessert and not know why.”

  Reyn was quiet while he swept. “I don’t know the details yet, but I want to. I want to be around for all of it. The broad strokes I’ve learned so far have been enough to captivate me. I can only imagine the details will draw me in that much more.”

  I kept my eyes on my work. “Women are about the broad strokes, sure, but they’re more about the details. Learn to love Lane’s details, and she’ll never lose that goofball glow she has for you. Just a little tip from me to you.” I swallowed as I scrubbed the wall. “The next time you bring her tea, put a wedge of a lime on the side. She has a theory that tea with lime makes her brain open up to see new things. It’s totally ridiculous, but if you do that, she’ll look at you like you’re the only guy in the universe, sent from Heaven just for her.”

  “Keep them coming, Daughter-Niece.”

  I snorted at the term, and proceeded to spend the rest of the day cleaning side-by-side with Reyn while giving him the cheat sheet on Lane. He soaked in every tip, mentally taking notes on everything I doled out that clued him in to the wonder that was our girl.

  Reyn and I were a good team, switching off tasks when one of us grew too tired or bored with our current job. We were both on the mend, so we kept an eye on each other. It didn’t feel patronizing, which was a relief on both our ends.

  When Bastien came stomping down the steps, I nearly laughed at his livid bear face. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Clearly I’m building a rocket ship. What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “It looks like you’re not resting at all, which is what I thought you were doing this entire time! How long have you been out of bed?”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Reyn, who grinned at our sparring. “I dunno. How long ago was breakfast? Since then.”

  Bastien was soaked to the skin. He stomped his soaking foot to the floor, and I half expected steam to billow out of his ears. “Are you kidding me with this? You could’ve at least come to get me for lunch.”

  “Lunch? What time is it? Did we miss lunch?” I dropped the rag in the bucket and stretched my arms over my head, giving my spine a satisfying twist.

  Bastien seemed to choke on too many acerbic retorts, and finally jabbed his finger at Reyn. “You. This is your fault.”

  I sauntered over to Bastien without a care in the world. I’d had a great day with Reyn, finally feeling like I was pitching in. “Sorry I missed lunch. You hungry? You always get crabby when you’re hungry.”

  Bastien stammered through Reyn’s laughter. “I’m not crabby, and it’s past dinner time! You skipped two meals? We’re trying to put meat on your bones, Rosie. Considering you don’t eat meat, it’s an uphill battle, and one you can’t go skipping meals through. Am I the only one taking this seriously?”

  I leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Yes, you are, and I love you for it. It’s a good thing we have you around to yell at us.” He’d finally shaved that morning, and man, had I missed his face.

  Bastien’s shoulders slumped, his cheek brushing against mine to savor the closeness. “I shouldn’t be yelling. Just don’t skip meals. And don’t work yourself to death. You have actual servants who can clean this place for you.” He pulled back to look at me, his eyes filled with a hollow emotion. “I don’t like the look of my girl in a dungeon.”

  “Why not? I was thinking this would be a great place for Lane to marry Reyn. White paint on the walls, pink tulle and ribbons on the cell bars. A rolled carpet down the aisle. Cute, right? It’d be unique. No one else would have a wedding like it.”

  Bastien narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m not marrying you in a dungeon.”

  My mouth fell open in shock. “I wasn’t talking about us. I was talking about Lane and Reyn.”

  “I know, but when we get married, you’re not talking me into this, so don’t get any ideas.” He motioned around the dungeon.

  Reyn stifled a gasp that was mingled with a choked laugh. “And on that note, I’ll leave you to your ensuing debate.” On the way out, he clapped Bastien on the shoulder. “You know, I always wanted a son exactly like you.” He laughed and scurried up the steps when Bastien’s grimace stifled any intelligible response.

  I waited until Reyn disappeared up the steps before putting my hands on my hips to address the elephant in the room. “Marriage is serious, Bastien. You shouldn’t go making jokes about it like that. Especially not in front of Reyn, who’s actually getting married.”

  Bastien’s face contracted, like he’d eaten something sour. “What makes you think I’m joking? Of course I want to marry you.”

  My cheeks flushed, and the basement felt suddenly both cold and too hot. “We’re still getting to know each other. This is the longest we’ve managed to stay together without breaking things off. You can’t possibly be this sure.”

  “I’d marry you yesterday, Daisy. Without a blink, I know it’s you I’ll want forever.”

  I squinted one eye at him, trying to see any false angles in his intentions. “Yeah, okay. Let’s give that subject a little air so it can breathe and decide how it feels being in the same room with me.” I walked back to my bucket and picked up the rag again to give the wall another swipe.

  Just like that, Bastien’s bark was back. “Do you think I’m screwing around down here? Get upstairs and go eat something! Skipping meals isn’t an option anymore.”

  I dropped the rag in the bucket, rolling my eyes at his overprotective rant. “Sheesh, fine. I was going to come up after I finished this wall. It’s the last one.”

  Bastien crossed his arms over his broad chest. “March it on upstairs before I lose my temper and carry you up there.”

  “I’ve got news for you; if you think this is you keeping your temper, you’ve got another think coming, pal.”

  I thought Bastien had another few rounds of sparring in him, but apparently he’d hit his limit. He charged at me like a bull and flipped me up over his shoulder. “If you want to keep up this fight, you’ll do it upside-down, screaming my name.”

  “Bastien, put me down!”

  He mocked my tone, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “‘Bastien! Bastien! You were right and I was wrong. I’m sorry I was reckless. Bastien, you’re the king of all the things. You’re always so wise.”

  “Oh, shut it.”

  He was soaked to the skin, and now my front was wet, as well. I was filthy, covered in dust and cobwebs, so the two of us were quite the sloppy pair as he tromped up the stone steps toward the kitchen. His spiri
ts soared along with his volume when he boomed out to the kitchen staff, “My bride needs dinner!”

  The three sisters who worked in the kitchen giggled and clapped, as if the whole thing was the best show they’d seen in ages. Mercy, Hope and Faith were the cutiest of cuties, each with round faces and deep dimples they didn’t hesitate to show off. “I’ve got vegetables roasting for her now, Sir Bastien.”

  “Perfect. What of a wedding cake? How soon can you throw that together?”

  “Give us a couple hours, and you’ll have yourself a cake the likes of which Avalon’s never seen before! Oh, the princess is marrying Bastien the Bold!”

  “He’s joking!” I protested, bringing the sisters back to reality. I beat on the small of Bastien’s back for him to shut up. Though Lane had made an announcement throughout the house that my engagement to Madigan was off, I didn’t know how I felt about Bastien’s unwavering devotion. It was such a switch; the whole thing still felt like whiplash. I wanted to give it more time to make sure it was real. “Would you knock it off? I have to actually say yes, and you have to ask me for real before you go blurting everything out to the world.”

  “Married?!” I heard Roland’s voice above the usual clamor of kitchen chatter. “You’re marrying her for real, Bastien?”

  I stiffened, and Bastien sensed that the teasing moment was over. He let me down, and I didn’t waste a second before I ran out of the kitchen, and scampered up the stairs to go wash up. Though I knew Roland was a royal, and lived in the gigantic annex next to our mansion, I hadn’t run into him yet in the week or so I’d been staying here. I kept my door locked mostly because of him, and stuck near Lane, Reyn or Draper when Bastien was working, to make sure Roland didn’t try to kill me again. Though I hadn’t sensed a threat or hostility from him during my stay here, I wasn’t willing to chance it.

  It’s Not Easy Being Green

  My body was overly tired, and I guess skipping two meals hadn’t been my best decision, but I made it to my bedroom and locked myself inside without Roland trying to kill me, so you know, bonus.

 

‹ Prev