The Baker and The Beast

Chapter Five

Daniela has been nagging you since the incident in the Dining Hall. Taunting you, showing up in places that you're supposed to clean only to push a vase over or spill some of her wine on the cream-colored carpet. Pushing her down the stairs seemed like a reasonable solution to your problem. But, to your dismay, you couldn't bring yourself to go through with it. As the days progressed, you realized that Daniela was more interested in getting a rise out of you than the action itself. You decided to ignore her, and ignoring her worked fine until today.

Today, she has specifically requested you to join her in the library. You really believed that Daniela had finally grown bored of you, and yet here you are with your knuckles rapidly knocking on the library's door and a pinched expression. You shove the door open without waiting for her invitation.

"Lady Daniela, " you grit through your teeth. "You wanted to see me." Shifting your stance, you observe the red-head. Spread across the sofa with her arm tucked underneath her head, Daniela reads.

She doesn't look up from the book. She only points to the ground in front of her. Your hands form fists, and you draw in a deep breath. You're not her fucking dog, but she knows that you can't defy her demands either.

Stopping right at the designated spot, you clasp your hands behind your back and scoff when you read the author's name: Robert Louis Stevenson. You can't think of anything more fitting than Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde for Daniela's personality.

"What is your favorite book?" She asks, head tilting in your direction. Her hair fell with the movement, cascading down the sofa cushions. The image reminds you of a forest fire. The strand engulfing the emerald on her collar didn't help. Well, if Daniela were a natural catastrophe, she'd probably be a forest fire, you muse. Beautiful, destructive, and a little unhinged. Sounds about right.

"I don't have one."

"You don't read?" The accusatory tone in her voice is unmistakable.

"I do, but I don't have a favorite book." Actually, your favorite book was either Jane Eyre or Anne of Green Gables, or maybe A Little Princess. You just didn't feel comfortable sharing that information. A person's favorite book can reveal a lot about their personality.

"There must be a book that had you clutching your stomach from laughter or crying until you couldn't breathe anymore," Daniela says. "A book that makes you yearn to be anywhere but here or that offers you comfort in your darkest times."

"What's your favorite genre?" You ask, ignoring her prior statement.

"Romance," She replies. Huh, that's unexpected. "But I also like horror."

"What's your favorite book then?"

"Alice in Wonderland." You remember the book on the coffee table and smile at Daniela.

"That's not horror or romance," you state.

"Yes," she says. "But Mother used to read it to us when we were–" Daniela wavers, and you look at her. "Younger."

You'd love to ask Daniela why she hesitated, but you don't want to intrude.