A Beast's Tale

Chapter 46

"Well, isn't this adorable? The Brutal Beast, enjoying an afternoon of reading with his little dove."

I sighed at the sound of Clavis' voice. I'd expected an interruption from him, but I'd hoped it wouldn't come this soon. He would do everything he could to spoil this moment and Ivetta's perception of me.

"Hello, Prince Clavis," she greeted him. I held my silence and watched out of the corner of my eye as he walked past me, toward her.

"What are you reading? Is that one of Chev's books?"

"Yes, Your Highness, it's The Romance of the Rose. He's letting me read it."

"Wow. He's picky about who he lends his books to. But I guess if he wants you to think he's as human as the rest of us, he needs to do little things like that."

I heard the bitterness in his voice and sighed again as I sat upright. Ivetta was sitting under a nearby shade tree, her hair undone and falling over one shoulder, her shoes off and her legs tucked up beside her, and he was standing over her, his right elbow propped up on the tree trunk next to his head, his hard golden eyes on me.

"Prince Clavis..."

He returned his attention and smile to her. "Tell me, Ivetta, what do you think about mourning? Is it acceptable for a person to grieve someone they've lost?'

I saw her face in profile as she looked up at him, brow furrowed, lips parted. Confused. She knew he was leading up to something, but she wasn't sure what that might be.

"Well, I have no personal experience with loss, but..." She paused and lowered her gaze to the look out over the still waters of the pond, biting her lip as she thought. "There's nothing wrong with mourning, if that's what a person needs to do to let go, but people can get stuck in it, too. We're not meant to live in the past. A person has to take the next step forward. Carry on the legacy, if you will." She looked up at him again. "But as I said, I have no experience with this sort of thing. I'm sure it's different for everyone."

"But you wouldn't say it's a waste of time, would you?"

She shook her head. "Not necessarily, no."

He laughed. "See, that's where you and I differ from Chev. He doesn't value individual human life, so he doesn't see the point in mourning anybody who dies—even if their death was his fault." His burnished gold eyes returned to me, but when she spoke again, they snapped back to her.

"That isn't true, Prince Clavis."

He shook his head. "Oh, Ivetta. So innocent and naïve. I see I'd better explain this to you."

He pushed off from the tree and sat on the grass beside her, close enough to touch. Her eyes widened, and she pulled her head back as he reached out with one hand to tuck her loose hair behind her ear. With the other, he plucked the book from her hands.

"Chev was eight when he killed his first assassin. Did you know that? No, of course you didn't. And you didn't know his mother saw him do it, because if you knew how much he frightened his own mother, you would think twice about getting close to him. She'd wanted the king to fall in love with her and hoped bearing him a child would make that happen, and then she gave birth to that." He thumbed a finger in my direction. "The king's worst threat."

"Prince Clavis—"

"Chev ended up killing her. Not with his sword, but she died of a broken heart because of him, and he didn't even have the decency to cry at her funeral. I tried to be a good brother and offer a shoulder to cry on, but he told me he felt nothing at her loss. Can you imagine? A boy standing over his mother's grave, feeling nothing? No sadness, or any other emotion? Just nothing?"