by Melody Rose
Predictably, the virulent goblin was the first of the two to snap at me. I couldn’t place why I still allowed him to stay on company grounds.
“Oh, shove off, ya power-drunk tyrant! You don’t have to stuff your nose into every matter, and this doesn’t concern you! If you want to snitch on us for carrying out our own tasks, then go right ahead like the spoiled golden child you are! I ain’t got any qualms marching right up to Nascha, or even Abelard, and spilling the beans about how you’re a near-murderer!”
I kneaded my temple to allay my pounding headache. Before I could devise a suitable comeback, Yavo had launched into his own tirade. “I concur with Irk, Theodore. Much as you may think we are, neither of us are your servants, and Abelard has given us the autonomy to serve Bouclier as a whole as we see fit.”
He continued and shook his head with disappointment. I couldn’t believe that I was being patronized by a creature that just barely reached my knee. “We are growing quite impatient with your needless cruelties, and if you don’t reconsider your methods before acting, I’m afraid we will have to intervene. Abelard has asked us to support Joan during her studies, and we are doing just that. Unless you have anything terribly pressing to ask, we would appreciate returning to our work.”
“In case you haven’t noticed,” I growled in irritation as a response, “I am essentially the overseer of Bouclier, so if you have been asked to attend to the needs of the academy, you are, by extension, under my control. You may not enjoy the terminology, but we can debate it all evening, and you’d still be my servants.”
When they glared at me ruefully, I let my shoulders drop and my posture sag to show that I wasn’t in the mood to order them around or put on airs. I honestly was too exhausted to punish them for their insolence, and at the moment, expending my last dregs of energy arguing about what to call them didn’t appeal to me. I sighed and waved my hand in a sweeping motion, showing them that I was willing to dismiss the matter.
“Anyway, that’s not why I brought you here tonight. I’m… sorry.” That was the third time I was reduced to an apology, and this time it felt like bile rising up to my throat. While it certainly wasn’t easy with Joan, this instance felt fully ungenuine. “I agree that my measures were extreme and that they can be modified. As such, I wanted to consult with both of you to see how I can better communicate with Joan. You may not believe me, but similarly to you, I would like to assure her that she is welcome at Bouclier. As much as a… human… can be.”
“Uh… huh,” Irk blurt out with suspicion, eyeing me as though I tried to swindle him. “You don’t have the best record there, kid. You’ve made her life the lowest level of the abyss just for the crime of breathing, and all she’s ever done is try to fit in, forgive you, and cook for you. You ask me, she’s been too easy on you, and you should just keep your distance until you’re ready to act like a decent mage. Which is next to impossible.”
The goblin really knew how to wind me up, and I couldn’t help but imagine roasting and skewering him for his claim. I’m sure he would make a somewhat nourishing snack, especially in my famished state. What could he ever know about being an upstanding mage? He came from a clan of mud-dwelling criminals that fleeced weary travelers. It wasn’t until his kind was captured and allowed to engage in honest work that he even had the chance to express even a shred of proper culture. I wasn’t quite convinced that he underwent a full transformation.
Yavo’s expression softened as he set his gathered materials onto an end table. I then noticed him pinch the hem of his sleeve and run his fingers up and down it in nervous contemplation. He seemed to be struggling to present his case to be, an obedient tic that I appreciated far more than his companion’s outright disdain for me.
“Well… I…” The troll stammered a bit before collecting himself. “... am certainly glad that you have reconsidered how you will interact with mademoiselle Joan, and I believe in your sincerity. I do know how difficult it has been over the years to juggle your responsibilities and your desire to refine Bouclier, so while I am saddened by how rough you’ve been with the girl, I can’t fault your intentions.”
Yavo’s eyes darted from side to side, and I could see his aura brighten before I felt his energy swell within his heart. I could tell that he was mustering all of his available courage to continue to speak his mind. Irk, on the other hand, still stood with arms crossed, clutching onto his assembled documents with a shadowy aura that announced how furious he was even without snide comments.
Yavo’s voice was strained even with his speech-enhancing charm so the troll must have been terribly concerned with offending me. I smirked slyly as he ran his small palm over his slicked-back hair as he tactfully managed eye contact with me.
“Could it be… monsieur… that you have a type of infatuation or fondness for the girl that you have masked with this undue hostility toward her? After all, you may think that she is below your station and that you have to hide your feelings for her, but you needn’t be so concerned with that, Theodore. No one has the authority to tell you whom to pursue.”
I rolled my eyes at that ridiculous presumption, too self-respecting to even humor it. How could I even be angry when the suggestion was such an outright impossibility? I may have been attracted to Joan, and that was, in fact, secondary to my preference to cultivate her into a proper mage so that she wouldn’t be an embarrassment to my family’s institution. To use the phrase “infatuation” sounded like a lovesick child which I was most decidedly not.
I took a deep breath to steady myself so that I didn’t lash out at the troll. I still wanted him to reveal what he’d learned about Joan.
“Yavo.” I gave a tight smile and pretended at civility, though I’m sure it looked as forced as it in fact was. “How kind of you to inform me that I can, in fact, court whoever I please at this academy or all of Lemuria, for that matter. I am already well aware of this undeniable truth.”
I continued, Joan now in my mind’s eye in a most aggravating way. “I have tasted nearly every fruit that this realm has to offer and indulged in the most captivating women, so why would I need to invest time in a human unless it was to slake my momentary thirst for newness? A mage might as well try a lamb’s blood once if the opportunity arises, yes?”
Irk glowered at me, and I shot him a sinister grin to show him that I would not back down.
“The claim that I would have any interest in her beyond one illicit night to experience her is absurd. She draws far too much attention with her fiery hair and big doe eyes, and that outrageous figure of hers is too much to handle, showing itself so loudly even in the most modest attire. She has no sense of decorum or discretion, and everyone would be able to spot her from afar. I wouldn’t hear the end of it, and I would soil my name for years if I were ever seen hand in hand with her. I would, of course, need to hide her from view and then rid of her once I’ve guided her as well as I possibly can.”
I rifled through more memories of Joan, as I had no shortage of them despite only knowing her for a handful of days. I had plenty of fodder to keep going.
“From the very beginning, she refused to acknowledge my superiority or treat me like the royal I am regardless of my obvious breeding. She has no concern about titles or riches and makes a mockery out of wealth. Her values are the stuff of fairy tales, fawning over healing animals and feeding others. Joan has far too much charity in her heart, and it infects her ability to think clearly, use discernment, or shield herself against the world.”
Yavo fidgeted in discomfort and wrung his hands as though it pained him to keep from speaking. Since my seething denunciation of Joan wasn’t yet as effective as I hoped, I clearly needed to tack on more scathing remarks.
“And yet, despite all of her sniveling compassion, she can’t spare any for me, the one that she should be most concerned with appeasing. She’s taken to you and Chef Douglas, the castle servants, a Cavellian runt who couldn’t perform as well as the rest of the pack, as well as a civvie lover that no o
ne else can stand because she’s all book smarts and no social graces. Other than meddling with those of lowly status, she’s too easily ruffled.”
I concluded with my final protest and expected it would be the damning crescendo to discredit any long-standing value to Joan.
“Most importantly, she won’t accept the help of the man most equipped to mentor her in Bouclier and insists on ill-advised independence that will only reduce her to more questions than she began with. Joan would do well to accept the answers that are given to her from the wisest mage in the academy, and yet she feels she decides to struggle. It’s as though she’s trying to build herself up on her own, even though that’s a laughable premise. How can a human make it here through sheer determination alone?”
Irk groaned so loudly that his rasping voice resounded throughout my bedroom, and I cringed at how it scraped at my raw nerves. I didn’t know if I had any further patience to continue to host them, even if I were to receive some illuminating words about Joan.
“Oh! Well, excuse Joan for having a backbone and trying to stand on her own two feet! Pardon her for not having a silver spoon lodged down her throat or drinking from so many gold goblets that she thinks she’s the queen of the entire realm! A real nightmare she is, yeah?”
Yavo pinched Irk’s shoulder as if to lecture him from overstepping a boundary and subtly shook his head in discouragement. He leaned in to whisper into his comrade’s ear, but since I didn’t have the wherewithal to cast a sonic charm, I couldn’t overhear what he had said. Whatever the troll’s remark was, it seemed sufficient to shut Irk up.
“It, ah, seems as though we may all need to settle down and reconvene at another time,” Yavo explained. “We’d be happy to advise you about Joan in the future, but with the emotions running so high, these don’t seem to be the best conditions for proper communication. So… we’ll just take our leave and let you reflect on… where you may like to take your interaction with mademoiselle Joan.”
Yavo gave me a swift, polite nod, and then scooped his materials back from the end table. “Ah, for now, see to it that you don’t threaten the girl’s safety and devise another way to convey how strongly you feel about maintaining your expectations for Bouclier. We have reason to believe that she may need special assistance in classes beyond Magical Cooking and wouldn’t refuse help if it’s properly presented.”
His eyes shone with bright promise as he provided me that small but likely valuable tidbit. “Would you… be so kind as to restore us back to where we were, Theodore? We have a good deal to review still, and while we are glad to clear this matter up somewhat and invite you to reevaluate how you treat Joan, we’ve lost a fair bit of time.”
“Very well.” I explored my consciousness and searched for a proper goodbye since I did actually feel more buoyant after revealing my observations of Joan. I was glad that there were some creatures, though fairly inconsequential, who would listen to my struggles with the girl. This way, I could actually speak my mind without compromising my reputation.
“Take heart…” I felt my stomach clench as I forced myself to move forward with my consolation. It felt so strange to have to defend my actions and prove I was capable of mercy. “I will never seriously seek to damage the girl, either in mind, will, or body. You have given me much to mull over, and I do agree that I can stand to offer her a greater deal of patience. Be… well.”
I clutched the edge of my bed and pulled myself with more effort than I expected. Even Irk seemed to look at me with puzzlement and some measure of concern as I limped over to them, awash with more appreciation than I’d ever had before in their presence. It must have been quite odd to see me manage a gentle smile when I was usually flinging demands or insults their way.
With a downward tilt of my head, I placed one hand on each of their shoulders. I felt Irk noticeably tense up at my touch, but neither of them had resisted me. I didn’t strictly need to begin the incantation this way but thought it would be a fair token of respect. Instead of simply shouting them out of the room without formality, I wanted to at least attempt civility as Joan had with them. I imagined they’d savor the rarity coming from me. At least, I thought that would be appropriate if they had any sense in them.
“S'il vous plaît, amenez ces nobles créatures d'où elles viennent,” I uttered tiredly but respectfully. “Please return these noble creatures back from whence they came.”
The last I’d seen of the two was their eyes snapped wide open in disbelief that I had used both honorifics and courtesy to transport them back to their duties. Even Irk, who was typically hardened and surly when it came to be, seemed moved by the gesture.
Nearly depleted, I decided that I would seek out Joan in order to arrange a constructive conversation with her. There was no reason to be at each other’s throats at every moment, and even I had to admit that I was usually the instigator of the brawls the two of us found ourselves caught up in. The power seemed to be in my hands, as usual, and I could mold my words to be more thoughtful.
There was no hiding that I wasn’t in my best fighting form, but that wasn’t the point. Perhaps Joan needed to see a softer side of me, even though I didn’t even know if I possessed one. I suspected that looking like a wounded animal might even endear her to me and that she might feel compelled to tend to me. That would certainly be a refreshing change, and a flicker of excitement arose in spite of my exhaustion.
I grasped the door handle with all my might, annoyed to find that the very act caused me to quiver and sweat. I fiddled with it uselessly until the slick knob fully rotated, and I heard the rustle of feet as I pushed the door forward into the hall.
“Oh! Well, hey, look at that timing, huh?!” Joan remarked with nervous giddiness, stepping backward to avoid hitting the door that I’d just opened.
She had changed out of her school robes and wore an exquisite white dress with thin straps that exposed her smooth shoulders. I enjoyed how it accentuated her figure while retaining an innocent quality. Smiling softly, I wished to signify that she wouldn’t need to worry about surprising me. Since she had seen me with Lydia and felt forced to leave, I wanted to reassure Joan that she was welcome here.
I looked down and noticed that she was holding an ornate platter topped with a fine cut of steak, a steamed potato, a goblet of red wine, a bowl of fava beans, and a dish of plump, green grapes. They all looked delightfully unseasoned, the sensible fare of knights who needed to remain agile and to abstain from unnecessary indulgences. Interestingly, one of the side dishes was concealed in its own silver container, a tray with an engraved topper.
I supposed that even when she was satiating my desires, she had to be coy and defy conventions. However, I had just made a vow to exercise tolerance, so I couldn’t very well degrade her as she stood in the hallway for that minor mistake.
“Ah, good evening, Joan. It is… pleasant to see you, and I regret that you found me in the position I was in. Perhaps we can discuss that later, but I wouldn’t want to spoil this dinner with such unsavory matters.” I took a step backward and gestured behind me with a gracious invitation. “It all looks divine, thank you. I hadn’t eaten all day, and it seems that you arrived just in time. I would be glad for your company if you would see fit to grace me with it.”
It must have been full of surprises tonight because Joan looked as though she couldn’t fathom my manners. I didn’t think she should have been taken aback by this as it was how I generally carried myself when I wasn’t constantly provoked. However, I was warmed by her positive reception to my gentlemagely bearing, and it compelled me to continue with this behavior for the rest of the night. That is, unless she were to ask me to put politeness aside to see a different side of me. I didn’t think it was entirely out of the question if the evening progressed well.
“Um… thank you. I would really like that. I’ve already eaten since I wanted to concentrate on this meal, but I would be happy to hang out.” I was pleased to see the color rise to her cheeks at the prospect, shyly
tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.
My spirits were lifted with her willingness to join me for dinner, my energy already intensifying. She shuffled into my room with enticing bashfulness, and I couldn’t deny that I looked forward to what was in store for us.
Joan’s Jubilant Apple Pie
Filling
6 medium Gala apples, peeled, cored, and sliced.
½ cup white sugar
2 tablespoons red winter wheat flour
½ teaspoon freshly ground cinnamon
¼ teaspoon nutmeg
2 vanilla beans, split and scraped
2 tablespoons lemon juice
Crust
2 ½ cups red winter wheat flour
1 cup butter, cubed
1 teaspoon salt
8 teaspoons ice water
Crumble
½ cup butter
⅔ cup packed brown sugar
1¼ cup red winter wheat flour
Egg Wash
1 large egg yolk
1 tablespoon cream
Directions
➼ Preheat oven to 425 degrees.
➼ Mix flour, sugar, & salt in bowl, blend in butter and ice water until dough holds together.
➼ Roll out one 14-inch disk and refrigerate for one hour.
➼ Cut remaining dough into one-inch strips, refrigerate for one hour.
➼ Press dough into 9-inch pie pan.
➼ Mix sugar, flour, vanilla, nutmeg, and cinnamon. Pour over apples in crust. Sprinkle with lemon juice.
➼ Mix butter, flour, and brown sugar in medium-sized bowl to create a crumble, then sprinkle over filling.
➼ Arrange strips of dough in a lattice pattern over filling and crumble, mix egg yolk and cream together to make the egg wash, then brush over latticework.
