A Beast's Tale

Chapter 30

"They were heartbroken to see me go," Clavis was saying, "but I promised to visit soon and make sure Lord Denois is treating them all right, and that cheered them up a little."

As annoying as Clavis could be, I believed the staff of Denois' new estate would miss seeing him. He managed my servants and his here at the palace—aside from Ivetta, of course—and although the staff joked about running away whenever he appeared, nobody ever left the kitchens until after he'd finished giving the day's instructions. The residents of his territory were the same. They moaned about his pranks, and they adored him. He had a way of winning people over despite his many flaws.

"As for our tea merchant, it turns out he's just bad at math. He hired a bookkeeper, and everything balances now. And while I was there, I bought a new lilac tea to share with our little dove the next time she needs to destress from an ordeal with you."

I glanced up at him from my paperwork. "You know."

"That she's from Garnet? Yes, I figured that out. I think everybody except for Yves and Luke knows by now. Her name is a dead giveaway. What do you think? Was her mother a servant in the palace who fled here during the siege?"

It was a possibility. Her mannerisms and speech indicated a familiarity with aristocratic etiquette, but there were noble families who had fallen out of favor and indentured themselves to other families. The Lelouches and Michels were one such example. Clavis' ancestors had been serving mine for several generations now. I still considered it more likely that Ivetta's mother was an escaped noblewoman, however. All nobility would have been in danger of execution following Obsidian's conquering the country. Servants would have been relatively safe from such a fate and would have had little reason to leave.

"Possibly. The painting?"

"Ah, yes, the painting." He handed me the large tube he'd been carrying. "The painter you last sponsored sent it to the gallery owner with instructions to give it to you, along with that note."

I'd pulled the note out of the cylindrical carrying case first and scanned the few lines. I didn't like what I read.

"Apparently, he received an art commission but couldn't make any progress on it until he painted that," Clavis continued as I withdrew the canvas and unrolled it. "It's an excellent likeness, but..."

It was Ivetta, probably how he found her in the library the day I'd threatened him to ensure he would leave her alone. She was standing before a bookcase, half-turned to look at the viewer, the brightness of her vivid green eyes visible even from the painter's distance. Sunlight from the windows reflected off her shiny black ponytail and kissed her slender limbs, bared by the short-sleeved and knee-length black-and-white uniform she wore, an outfit and an angle that neither hid nor emphasized her curves. Every detail was correct, from the slight part of her full lips as she looked at the viewer to the dustrag in her hand.

He swore in the note he'd never paint her again. I didn't believe him.

"I take it this isn't the first time he's painted her."

"No, it isn't." Even to me, my voice sounded frigid. I rolled up the painting and restored it to its case. "You're dismissed."

"Oh, good. I wanted to check on our new Belle and see how she's adjusting to palace life. Just let me know how you decide to kill that painter. That'll be entertaining."

He bounced out of the office, and after a moment's consideration, I left as well. I took the painting to my room and then went to the library to think and read. With Gilbert and now this painter on my mind, I was questioning everything about how I should handle Ivetta. Was she safer with me, or away from me—still protected by Lucien, of course?