A Beast's Tale

Chapter 35

Her humming surprised me the next morning. It was almost inaudible over the rain pounding against the windows, but I heard it. She'd forgiven me, and she was humming. I lay still, savoring every unexpected note in the short time it took her to set my breakfast on my writing desk and open the drapes.

"Good morning, Prince Chevalier!" she called in the same bright tone she used most mornings. "This is quite a storm. I was afraid the carriage would tip over in the wind yesterday."

She was acting as if nothing had happened. I pulled down the covers to peek at her, and her posture was normal. There was no rigidity in her shoulders or tension in her movements. The ponytail hanging down her back, however, was following a somewhat tangled path to her waist.

"Why is your hair wet?"

She turned around to face me, without a trace of nervousness in her eyes. The storm outside darkened her green irises to almost black, but the flickering candlelight kissed the left side of her face and the edge of her fading bruise with a golden glow.

"I had things to do outside this morning, Prince Chevalier. I wore a coat, but there was no point in using an umbrella with the wind like this. Which reminds me, I have to check on your laundry. I think I saved some of it, but I'm not sure about the cloak yet."

I pushed the blankets back and stretched. "I hope you don't plan to play out on the lawn again today."

"I had no such plans yesterday, Your Highness, and I've none today. There's a room set up at the laundry for drying clothes. Yours are all there."

"Good." I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed.

"Prince Chevalier..." She paused and bit her lip, and I thought again how delicate she looked—and how deceptive that impression was. She didn't blow away in the wind and rain this morning. She didn't break under pressure yesterday. But ever since the day I'd seen her fall apart, I felt the urge to embrace her whenever I saw her showing the barest hint of anxiety. To comfort and protect her.

But she didn't want me touching her anymore, and I needed to get away from her.

"Ask your question."

"I meant to tell you this yesterday, but... I think someone is following me, Prince Chevalier."

I tamped down the surge of violent anger in my bloodstream and redirected my thoughts in a logical direction. "A long-haired man in his forties?"

Her eyes widened, and she nodded. "How did you know, Prince Chevalier?"

I stood and took my clothes from her on my way to the bathroom. "I assigned him to you."

"You—how long has he been following me around, Prince Chevalier?" she called after me.

I sighed. The broken mirror reflected my messy blonde hair and expression of mild annoyance several times. Two recent attacks, and there were still notes of disbelief and irritation in her voice, as if I were out of line for concerning myself with her safety. "Have you forgotten so quickly?"

"No, Prince Chevalier, I just... I'd like to have some privacy."

Ironic that we were having this conversation while I was in the bathroom, getting ready for the day. I'd never bothered shutting the door before. It was my bathroom attached to my bedroom, and prior to her becoming my maid, it was rare for anybody to be in here while I was attending to my personal needs. She'd never complained. I assumed she kept her back to the open door, although I had never checked; it seemed a fair assumption to make of a woman who flushed bright red from light flirting. I'd never concerned myself with thoughts of her invading my privacy because she respected my boundaries, and I understood her desire for me to do the same. But she took too many risks to maintain hers.