A Beauty and the
Beast short story.
When Elle returned from her weeklong
trip she found Severin in his study. “I’m home,” she announced, bearing a
bouquet of flowers in one arm and Jock the fat Papillon in the other.
“Madame Elle, what a delight it is
to welcome you home,” Burke said, bowing extravagantly. “You must be famished
after your journey. Shall I send for refreshments and your favorite tea as well
as a vase for your flowers?”
“I would much appreciate it. Thank
you, Burke, you are a noble man,” Elle said, plopping down on the sofa Severin
had acquired in his study since marrying Elle.
Severin looked up from the book he
was reading. “Where have you been?” he asked Elle after Burke left the study.
“What do you mean, ‘where’? You know
perfectly well that I was visiting Mademoiselle Cicilly. I told you so several
times before I left. She’s the only one I can stand in the entirety of your
family’s festering court,” Elle said, setting Jock on the ground.
“That is where you said you were going. The small squad of
soldiers I sent after you lost your trail several miles from Cicilly’s lands.
It is anyone’s guess where you really went.”
“You sent soldiers after me? I find
your lack of trust hurtful.”
“Don’t bother pretending you didn’t
know. The captain said you went through extraordinary efforts to ditch them
during your journey.”
Elle tapped her fingers on the
armrest of her chair. “Your men are smart. Too smart.”
“I’m very thankful they are, else
they wouldn’t be able to keep up with you.”
“Don’t they complain that you
regularly use army forces to babysit me?”
“No. You have become something of a
test of courage. They see guarding you as the ultimate challenge,” Severin
dryly said.
Elle sighed in aggravation and was
silent for a few moments. “I’ve been thinking about Emele and Marc. We really
ought to do something about them.”
“What.”
“Emele has been positively pining
over Marc. It’s time for someone to point that out to him so he can do
something about it or gently reject her—and if he does that he’s a proper
fool,” Elle said.
“It is in times such as this one
that I am forced to remind myself that I actually like your somewhat indecent sense of humor and curiosity,” Severin
said, returning his attention to his book.
Elle shrugged before she rearranged
her armful of flowers. “What do you think of this bouquet?” she asked, standing
and setting the purple-blue, star shaped flowers on his desk.
Severin studied the flowers with
interest. “They look hardy; I can’t say I recognize them. Where did you get
them?” he asked, sifting through the flowers. His left eye twitched when he
found a flower with flattened petals.
Elle leaned across Severin’s desk
and kissed his cheek. “Here and there. I brought back some seeds in case you
wanted to try growing some. And you are right, they are hardy. Supposedly they
bloom before tulips, sometimes even when there is still snow.”
“Interesting,” Severin said. “I
wonder what their frost resistance is.”
Elle smiled. “So we agree then,
someone needs to talk to Marc and Emele?”
Sever looked up from the flowers.
“Even with this bribe I am not going to agree to you meddling in the romantic
affairs of our staff.”
“It’s hardly meddling. I think of it
as more of an intervention,” Elle said.
“It’s meddling. It would take a
falling star to hit Marc before he would notice Emele’s attentions.”
“Exactly.”
“What are you planning?”
“I thought you and I could cultivate
flowers arranged in letters to spell out an explanation. Marc notices all plant
life, after all.”
“You would have better luck knocking
him out, gagging him, and plainly telling him,” Severin said.
“What a fantastic idea!”
“I wasn’t being serious.”
“That does not mean it’s not the
best option,” Elle pointed out.
“You cannot knock out the chief
gardener. What will you do if you hit him too hard and he is addled for the
rest of his life? The gardens will suffer.”
“You’re starting to sound like
Lucien.”
“Do you not know me at all? I was
being sarcastic.”
“So cultivating a message with plant
life, then?”
Severin leaned back in his chair,
folding his hands across his stomach as he thought. “Talk to Bernadine. She
will have a better idea.”
Elle had a triumphant smile on her
face, as if Severin had said exactly what she wanted to hear. “What a divine
idea. Thank you, husband!”
“You’re welcome,” Severin
suspiciously said.
Elle plopped back in her couch and
waited for tea. Severin did not dwell much longer on the subject, and hardly
thought twice when he was told that Elle spent a great deal of her free time in
the kitchens with Bernadine for the next few days.
Several days after her conversation
with Severin, Elle strolled through the gardens, arm in arm with Emele. Elle
twirled a parasol above her head and scanned the gardens with the eye of an
eagle. Emele chattered naively at her side.
“Madame Beaumont wishes for me to
tell you that your dress will be finished in time. She’s made it out of a
splendid shade of rose pink silk and reports that it was no small feat finding
a shade of pink that agreed with your eyes, hair, and skin tone.”
“The skirts are not cumbersomely
wide, are they?” Elle asked, leaning forward to glance up a walking lane before
dragging Emele a different way.
“If you mean to ask if they are as
wide and hooped as my wardrobe, they are not,” Emele tartly said.
Elle affectionately patted Emele’s
arm. “I did not mean it that way and you know it. I cannot hope to wear those
fashionable skirts for I move like a hobbled horse in them. It is all because I
haven’t your grace.”
“Do not speak to me of grace. You
have the ability to run on rooftops.”
“Only because I’m not wearing
dresses like yours. Ah, here we are. Good afternoon, Marc!” Elle said,
trumpeting her greeting.
Marc turned from the green hedge he
was trimming and bowed. “Greetings to you, Your Highness and Mademoiselle
Emele.”
“Good heavens, Marc. I have told you
before, I’m not a princess,” Elle said, shuddering with horror.
“You married a prince, Your
Highness,” Emele pertly said. She smiled prettily when Elle eyed her.
Elle turned away from her ladies
maid to interrogate the gardener. “How are you doing this fine day, Marc?” Elle
asked.
“Fine, thank you, Your Highness,”
Marc said with another bow.
“Isn’t it splendid weather we are
having?”
Emele shifted in the following
silence before adding, “It is wonderful growing weather, isn’t it Marc?”
Marc bowed.
“I suppose so with the sunshine and
everything,” Elle said, briefly squinting down the lane. “Doesn’t Emele look
gorgeous this day?”
“W-what?” Emele sputtered, turning
red.
Marc bowed.
“One would be hard pressed to find a
lady more beautiful and elegant than Emele. Wouldn’t you agree, Marc?” Elle
asked twirling her parasol.
“Elle,”
Emele hissed.
Marc bowed.
“Emele very much admires you, if you
haven’t noticed,” Elle shamelessly said.
“Your work! She means your work. I
find your gardening abilities awe inspiring,” Emele hastily added, jabbing her
elbow into Elle’s side.
Marc bowed. “The mademoiselle is too
kind.”
“If you’ll excuse us, Marc, but we
must be leaving,” Emele said, starting to pull Elle away.
“Really? What for?” Elle asked.
“We have several things we must
attend to,” Emele said.
“No we don’t.”
“Yes, we do. Good day, Marc,” Emele
said, curtsying to the burly gardener.
The gardener bowed.
“Good bye, Marc,” Elle said before
Emele swept her away.
“Have you lost all sense?” Emele
hissed when they were far enough away that Marc would not hear the heated
exchange.
“No, but I grow bored of the way you
two dance around each other,” Elle said.
“Then ignore us!”
“Impossible. Your love affair is the
only one the kitchen maids have to gossip about,” Elle said.
Emele groaned and covered her
cheeks. “I am utterly embarrassed.”
“Consider it payback,” Elle said,
twirling her parasol.
Emele frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Come now, you can’t really have
thought Severin and I would allow you to have manipulated us for so long when
he was a beast without any sort of repercussions,” Elle said.
“You were married earlier this
summer. You couldn’t have gotten your revenge sooner?” Emele protested.
“Perhaps. But it is so much more fun
right now,” Elle chuckled. “I’m sorry, though. I did not think you would be so
mortified. I should have chosen my words better.”
“You shouldn’t have said anything at
all! What will I say the next time I see him?”
“Why don’t we go back and find out?”
“No, thank you, Your Highness.”
“As you wish.”
Later that day Severin found Elle
and Heloise standing in the dining room, holding some sort of diagram between
them.
“Elle, a squadron from the First
Cavalry has just arrived. Do you have any idea what they are doing here?”
Severin asked.
Elle stared at the diagram. “No.
Why, should I?”
“No, but I thought it was best to
ask. You have a strange line of communication with His Majesty the King. If he
chose to interfere with army affairs I thought you might know.”
“By His Majesty do you mean your
father?” Elle sweetly asked.
Severin frowned. “Yes,” he said, his
voice lacking any warmth.
“To achieve this ‘strange line of
communication’ as you call it, all I did was send him a thank you note for his
wedding gift. The man gave us the chateau, it was the least we could do. And as
far as I know he had no such plans to poke his nose in your affairs,” Elle
said.
“It must be a paperwork mix up, in
that case. I shall have to start looking for a paper trail and find where our
orders went wrong,” Severin said, rubbing his eyes.
“Leave them,” Elle advised, nodding
when Heloise tapped something on the diagram. “They might be here for your
brother. Isn’t Lucien visiting in a few days? Maybe he decided to send some soldiers
ahead.”
“Perhaps. I shall speak to the squad
captain and find out,” Severin said, turning to go. He paused briefly. “What on
earth are you two doing?”
“It’s plans for Emele and Marc. What
to see?” Elle asked.
“No thank you.”
Heloise raised her eyebrows and
looked up from the diagram. “Feeling flighty, Your Worship?”
Severin ignored the question. “Enjoy
your planning,” he said before quitting the room.
“That was close,” Heloise observed.
“Too close. But if we act like we
have something to hide he’ll realize something is up,” Elle said, rolling up
the diagram.
“You’re a smart girl, Elle. I’m
happy His Greatness met you.”
“Thank you, Heloise. I am too.”
The following evening Elle winced as
she splayed out over Severin’s massive bed.
“Do you have a headache?” Severin
asked, pausing by the bed to tenderly brush some of Elle’s hair out of her
face.
“Unfortunately.”
“Do you want me to call for Duval?”
“No, I’ll be fine. I just need to
rest my eyes for a bit,” Elle said, catching Severin’s hand and squeezing it.
“Thank you, though.”
“You’re welcome. Is something
wrong?” Severin asked, returning the squeeze before he pulled away. “You seem
burdened.”
“No, I’m fine. It’s just silly
little things,” Elle said, waving a hand in the air.
“Your plans for Marc and Emele
aren’t succeeding?” Severin asked, hanging up his waistcoat.
“That too.”
“Anything new on the romantic
front?”
“Emele just about scalped me after I
told Marc Emele admired him,” Elle said.
“I thought that happened yesterday.
You haven’t managed to achieve anything new since then?” Severin asked, making
the bed creak when he sat on the edge.
“No,” Elle carefully said. “Because
I am putting the next part of my plan into practice tomorrow.”
“And that is?”
“Talking to Marc again. This time
without Emele.”
“I see. Will you be able to achieve
that? I assume Emele is on her guard now, or is that what you and Heloise were
planning yesterday? A distraction to keep Emele occupied.”
“Yes, that was our plan,” Elle lied,
scooting over so she could place her head on Severin’s chest when he laid down
next to her. “You aren’t worried I’m going to push them too far?”
“Marc and Emele? Hardly. I’m sure
you’re having fun, but you aren’t the type to be entirely pushy,” Severin said,
combing his hand through Elle’s glossy hair.
A smile curled across Elle’s lips.
“I love you, and I’m very happy that you understand me.”
Severin kissed the top of Elle’s
head. “Of course, that’s why I love you.”
Elle cornered Marc at the small pond
near the flower gardens. “Marc, I thought I might find you here. How are the
gardens coming?”
Marc bowed. “Very well, Your
Highness.”
“Great. Let me know if you need
anything. Also, I wanted to thank you for all your help with the flowers. I
cannot tell you what a help it is that you will be cutting and arranging them
for tomorrow.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” Marc
bowed.
Elle tilted her head and stared at
the burly gardener.
“Anything else, Your Highness?” Marc
asked.
“How can you not acknowledge Emele?”
“Pardon, Your Highness?”
“For heaven’s sake, even Jock knows
Emele is sweet on you,” Elle said.
“I do not know what you refer to,
Your Highness.”
Elle narrowed her eyes. Marc
steadily met her gaze.
“Emele is very dear to me,” Elle
finally said. “I care greatly for her.”
“I am aware of your friendship, Your
Highness.”
Elle’s next words surprised the
gardener. “I like you Marc. Severin greatly esteems you, and I admire your
loyalty.”
“. . . Your Highness?”
“I want you to be happy. You and
Emele both. Please remember that, and please make a move soon.”
Marc was silent for a long time.
“Yes, Your Highness,” he finally said with a bow. “But I am not certain there
is a move to make.”
“You underestimate yourself.”
“I doubt that, Your Highness.”
Elle ruffled her skirts. “In any
case, the issue has been addressed. In the meantime I shall do my best to keep
Severin out of the gardens today.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“Take care, Marc. And thanks again,”
Elle said before she turned on her heels and left the gardens. She had a lot to
finish and only a short time to achieve it in.
The following morning found Severin
grudgingly dressed. “I question your reasons for eating breakfast in the dining
room,” he said, fussing with the cuffs of his waistcoat.
“We always eat breakfast in our
bedroom. I thought the change of scenery might be nice.”
“It might be if we didn’t always eat
lunch and dinner in the dining room,” Severin said.
Elle checked her reflection in
Severin’s magic mirror, twirling the skirts of her rose pink dress. “Saying
always is an exaggeration. How do I look?”
“Ravishing,” Severin said, walking
up behind her to kiss her brow.
Elle blushed pink in her pleasure.
“Thank you. I want to be sure I look nice today for your brother’s arrival.”
Severin frowned. “You could look
slightly less entrancing,” he suggested.
“No, I want to look my best. Last
time I saw Lucien he referred to me as ‘the peasant girl Severin rescued from
poverty,’” Elle said.
“I could choke him with a silk scarf,”
Severin suggested.
Elle laughed. “You would do no such
thing, you love him too much. And I did provoke him,” Elle admitted. “Are you
ready to go to breakfast?”
“Yes,” Severin said, offering his
arm.
The two left the master suit,
walking the length of the oddly empty hall.
“What is it?” Elle asked when
Severin persisted in glancing over his shoulder.
“It just occurred to me I have seen
neither Burke nor Emele since they woke us this morning and helped us dress,”
Severin said.
“Perhaps they had things to
complete,” Elle said as they drew closer to the threshold of the main hall.
“Maybe. But both of them are too
cunning to—,” Severin fell silent when he and Elle left the hallway for the
hall.
The main hall was a flood of
flowers, colors, and people. There were officers from the Cavalry,
Farand—leader of the Rangers—army officers, all the chateau servants, and
Prince Lucien and his sister Princess Sylvie.
Prince Lucien smiled widely as
Princess Sylvie—an exuberant girl on the cusp of becoming a young lady—shouted,
“Happy birthday, brother!”
Noise rolled through the room in a
thunderous wave of congratulations, greetings, and well wishes. Grinning, Elle
stood on her tip toes to kiss Severin on the cheek. “Happy Birthday, my love,”
she said.
“How did you . . . ?” he trailed
off, looking at the crowd of beaming faces.
“Lucien told me,” Elle said. “I
suggested we do something special this year to celebrate. He agreed,” she said
before she tugged on his arm. “Come, let’s greet our guests.”
Elle and Severin descended the
stairs and were swallowed in the mass of well wishers.
The cavalry commanding officer
Severin had served under as a boy was there. He greeted Severin with a large
smile and a firm handshake. “Happy Birthday, Your Highness. You’ve become a
great man.”
A general Severin was on close terms
with greeted him next, slapping him on the back. “Enjoy the day, Commander. Me
and the boys are proud to be here and we’re proud to serve under your flag!”
Princess Sylvie caught Severin after
that, hugging him tightly. “Brother, I’m so glad this birthday is better than
the last one when you were still a beast, and I’m happy I have a sister now,”
she said before she threw herself at Elle, dislodging her from Severin’s grasp
with her bear hug.
Severin set eyes on Lucien next. His
half brother saluted Severin with a glass of wine. “Congratulations on another
year, brother. I am glad you were born into our family.”
Severin briefly frowned before he
stared at the wine. “Where did you get alcohol this early in the morning.”
Lucien shrugged. “Elle promised. How
else do you think she managed to get me here at this ungodly hour?”
“Blackmail.”
“That too,” Lucien admitted before
he stepped aside, letting the next guest greet Severin.
After a long line of Severin’s
friends and close acquaintances in Loire’s military forces, the Chanceux
Chateau staff assembled before him.
“Happy Birthday, Your Highness. We
wish for you many, many more happy years,” Burke said, heading a column of male
servants.
Bernadine and Heloise stood side by
side in front of all the female servants. “Happy Birthday, Prince Severin. I do
hope you like the cake,” Bernadine beamed.
“Well wishes to you, Your Grace,”
Heloise gruffly said. “We’re lucky to serve a man like you, and to stand with
you we’d do the curse all over again if we had to.”
The wishes and compliments went on
for the better part of an hour before a late breakfast feast was served. It
wasn’t until after the party guests were pushed outside so the tables could be
cleared off that Severin found Elle.
She was hidden in a copse of trees,
sitting on a bench and letting the sunshine warm her face.
“Why did you do it?” Severin asked.
Elle opened one eye. “I beg your
pardon?”
“Why the celebration?”
“You didn’t enjoy it?” Elle asked,
opening both her eyes.
“It was unexpected and . . .
pleasant,” Severin admitted. “But in all my life I have made it a point not to celebrate my birthday.”
“Darling, you aren’t yet old enough
to be sensitive about your age,” Elle said.
“That’s not want I meant,” Severin
said, sitting down next to her. “My birth was a shameful event. I am illegitimate. My very existence is a
blemish on the royal family. There is nothing to celebrate.”
“Severin, the King officially
accepted you into the royal family. I became a princess when a married you. What your father did was wrong, but
that does not reflect on you,” Elle argued. “And I want to celebrate.”
“Whatever for?”
“Because I am happy you were born.
Because I am thankful you are alive, I’m happy I met you, and because I am
deeply in love with you. I want to celebrate your day of birth because you mean
so much to me, and I cannot fathom a future without you. That’s what everyone
at this party is saying, Severin,” Elle said, placing her hand on Severin’s
cheek, forcing him to look at her.
“You are happy I was born?” Severin
asked.
Elle laughed. “Severin I love you. I am overjoyed that you were
born!”
Severin smiled slightly, and Elle
continued. “And I am not the only one that feels so.”
“The guests?”
“Yes, and one more person,” Elle
said. She reached under her skirts and pulled out a carefully rolled letter,
which was sealed with the crest of the royal family. It was a correspondence
from the King of Loire, Severin’s father.
Severin took the letter and stared
at it.
“He made a mistake, Severin. Just
like you and I did when your curse was broken. You need to forgive him,” Elle
said, placing her hand on top of Severin’s.
Severin was silent as he broke the
wax seal and unrolled the letter, carefully reading it. He read it twice, and
when he finished the second time he lifted his gaze to the sky.
Elle rested her head on his shoulder
and squeezed his hand, offering her silent support.
They stayed like that, resting in
the sunlight, listening to the faint laughter and chatter of the guests, for
some time.
In fact, they only stirred when
someone on the other side of the copse of trees they were nestled into ran
past, fleeing a familiar, bear-like voice.
“Mademoiselle Emele!”
“Leave me alone, Marc.”
Elle swiveled on the bench, her eyes
bright and head perked as she listened with great interest.
“Mademoiselle Emele, stop,” Marc
said, his voice just on the other side of the trees.
“Please, let me go,” Emele said, her
voice anguished.
“No.”
“What is there to say, Marc?
Princess Elle might have the subtlety of a bear, but it’s only because everyone
in the Chateau knows how I feel for you and you ignore me. The least you could
have done was tell me you don’t feel the same way!”
Elle felt momentarily outraged. “I
am far more subtle than a bear,” she hissed.
Severin whispered into his wife’s
ear. “Clearly this is meant to be a private conversation. We should go.”
“Are you nuts? After all the spying
Emele did on us this is the least she owes us,” Elle said.
“Do you really wish to witness
this?” Severin asked.
Elle bit her lip, but clung to the
bench when Marc spoke again.
“You’re wrong,” Marc said.
“About what?” Emele asked, her dress
rustling loud enough to be heard through the trees.
“About how I feel,” Marc said.
Emele laughed. “Marc you’ve done
nothing but avoid me since the curse was broken months ago! I would have
thought I deserved more than your silence but it’s been abundantly clear that
you do not feel like you owe me even words. Not that I blame you, I was a
selfish, silly girl before the curse. But I thought that, I thought . . .”
“Yes?”
“Never mind,” she said, her
footsteps pulling away from the trees.
“Please, don’t let it end here,”
Elle breathed, closing her eyes.
“Emele!” Marc shouted. “You are
wrong. I avoided you because I was afraid. Yes, I knew how you felt, but I
thought that when the curse was broken . . . you are so beautiful. It wouldn’t
be fair to saddle you with a gardener when
you could do so much better. Your family is good, you deserve more. You can
marry someone who has more to offer.”
“Someone better? Marc, you were the only man to defend me against my father
when you didn’t even like me! You are noble and kind, it’s I who don’t
deserve you.”
“But that was then. Now that the
curse is broken things have changed.”
Emele’s voice went high pitched as
she yelled at the gardener. “No they have not! Do you really think I am that
fickle?”
“No.”
“This is ridiculous; I should have
become a nun.”
“Emele.”
“What?” Emele growled.
“I love you,” Marc said, blurting
out his declaration.
“You what?” Emele said, sounding
bewildered and hopeful.
“I love you. I have ever since you
came outside to help me in the gardens three years ago and got dirt smudged on
your nose.”
“I love you, Marc,” Emele said.
“Can we walk . . . and talk some
more?”
“It would be my greatest pleasure.”
When the pair left Elle clasped her
hands to her heart. “I honestly didn’t know Marc could talk that much. Wasn’t
that sweet?” she asked.
“It was inevitable,” Severin said,
rolling his eyes.
Elle eyed her husband. “Don’t tell
me you are going to claim you’ve known all along that Marc fancied Emele.”
“I didn’t know all along,” Severin
said.
Elle nodded in satisfaction.
“I’ve only known since our wedding.”
“What,” Elle said, mimicking
Severin’s way of stating the word more than asking it.
“In our wedding there were several
kinds of roses in your bouquet. Do you remember?”
“Yes. Most of them were from bushes
you had helped Marc grow.”
“Correct, one of those was a strain
of rose Marc is credited with creating. The yellow rose with the hint of pink
in it.”
“Ah, yes I do recall that one.”
“He named it Elegant Emele.”
“. . . And you couldn’t have told me
this earlier?” Elle said.
Severin shrugged. “You haven’t
brought up their love affair since our wedding. I was wondering why it suddenly
was a topic you had a great passion for.”
“It was the decoy so you wouldn’t
get suspicious when you found me discussing secret plans with servants. I just
about died the day you found Heloise and me in the dining room. We were working
on the seating chart for tonight’s dinner,” Elle said.
Severin shook his head, chuckling
under his breath.
“What?” Elle asked, blinking.
“Nothing,” Severin said, leaning
close. “I love you, Princess Elle.”
“And I love you, Prince Severin.”
The pair shared a deep kiss before
Lucien bellowed from deep in the gardens. “Severin? I’m lost in your blasted
gardens. Send someone to come find me! Severin!”
Severin growled as he pulled back,
ending the kiss.
Elle said, “I have mixed feelings
about your family, though.”
“He has the worst timing,” Severin
said.
“Well, he’s still your brother. He
grows on a person, much like a fungus. Shall we find him? He’s going to disrupt
the other guests at this rate.”
“Eeeeelle! If you don’t come find me
I’m going to keep yelling all day. Eeeeeeelle!”
Severin winced. “Yes, let’s.”
