A Beast's Tale

Chapter 56

She wasn't humming the next morning.

That didn't surprise me, but it disappointed me. Her mother's declining health would likely dim her mood for the foreseeable future. There was also the chance Silvio had discovered she made me breakfast every morning and forced her to make him a serving, even though he'd hired a personal chef yesterday, and the entire cooking situation had undoubtedly upset the palace chefs, which the head maid might use as a reason to take her frustrations out on Ivetta. If Clavis had returned from his party, he would soothe the ornery old woman and the chefs. If he hadn't, I might need to intervene.

Ivetta inserted as much cheer into her morning greeting as she could muster. I groaned and hugged my blankets tighter around me. I'd told her we would resume our usual schedule today, but I still hated mornings.

"Prince Chevalier, there's something I need to talk to you about."

"The Jangler, the head maid, or your mother?" I muttered.

There was a pause. I imagined her eyes widening and knew the answer before she spoke it. "All three."

I sighed and pushed the blankets back. Aside from Silvio making her cook him breakfast and generally being obnoxious, he would have noticed her making herself a portion and would have commented about that. Given her nickname and his preferential style for metaphors... "He called you my 'pet,' didn't he?"

She dropped my clothes on the sofa and stared at me. "I'll never know how you do that, Prince Chevalier."

"Disciplining him carries the risk of harming diplomatic relations with Benitoite, but I'll handle it." I yawned and climbed out of bed. "And the head maid as well. What modifications to your hours do you need?"

"I think going home on my lunch break is all I need right now. I don't mind making breakfast for Prince Silvio," she hastened to say, "but... I'd rather he not insult me so much. And I'm not worried so much about the head maid as I am about the chefs. She already thinks I'm getting special privileges, and having you talk to her won't help with that. But the chefs are upset about Prince Silvio, and rightly so. I don't know what he thinks is wrong with their cooking."

Her right hand wrapped around her left wrist as she spoke. She looked more rested today than she had yesterday, but she still had dark bags under her worried eyes. I almost poked her in the forehead to redirect her attention before I remembered not to touch her.

"The Jangler prefers eating local food when he travels. You've learned fine cooking from the chefs here, but your dishes are still closer to those commoners eat. It isn't a matter of overall quality, but of individual tastes."

The way she looked at me when she listened to my explanations brought me too much pleasure. She refused to rely on anybody, but in these moments, with her gazing up at me through those bright green eyes, her full lips parted to drink in every word, it felt as though I could tell her anything, and she would believe me. Although I knew differently.

"Oh. Well, in that case—"

"No. I'll handle it. If you don't want the Jangler making remarks about your weight, you should eat."

She blushed and averted her eyes as she turned away. "He already has."

I traced her outline as I picked up my clothes. The white belt of her apron cinched tighter about her waist than it had before. Access to food was not the problem so much as her growing anxiety about her mother.

"I'll notify the coachman to have the carriage ready at noon. It may not be Yves who accompanies you every day, depending on his availability, but it will always be one of my brothers."