A Beast's Tale

Chapter 75

"Good morning, Prince Chevalier." Her voice sounded brighter this morning than had been the case of late.

"Is it?" I mumbled from beneath the covers.

There was a pause before she replied. "Well, I suppose that depends on your perception. I got more sleep last night than I have in a while, but Mother... she was still asleep when I left this morning."

I frowned and sat up, rubbing my eyes. "You mean she didn't wake up."

"I think she just took too much pain medicine yesterday, and it made her sleepier than usual," Ivetta hurried to say. "She was in a lot of pain when I got home, and she couldn't remember how much medicine she'd taken, so I only gave her one pain pill at bedtime. I sent my neighbor's oldest son to get the doctor, just in case. I'm sure she's fine." Her words tumbled out in a rush as she moved about the room, avoiding looking in my direction. She knew what I would say and was trying to prevent me from saying it. I knew her weak reassurances felt as hollow to her as they sounded to me.

I stretched, sighed, and then climbed out of bed. "You should have stayed home."

She was pulling her chair out from the table, standing with her face in profile to me, and I saw her bite her lip. "I probably would have, but... Prince Gilbert was on the carriage."

I sighed again, this time in irritation. "And the Showoff wasn't."

She shook her head. Her fingers tightened on the chair, turning her knuckles white. "I don't know how he got rid of Prince Yves, but Mother hates Obsidian, and I know she'd hate Prince Gilbert—I haven't even told her about him—and he hates her. I didn't want them to meet. But it's fine. He was actually... Well, he told me if she was still breathing normally, she would be fine. And if I need to go home early, the doctor will send for me." She sat down and removed the cloche covering her plate of food. "It's fine."

I was growing to dislike that phrase almost as much as her incessant, unnecessary apologies. "No, it isn't."

She made no reply to that. I grabbed my clothes and went into the bathroom, already frustrated. Of course, Gilbert would find a way onto her carriage. It wouldn't have been hard for him to divert Yves, the most gullible of my brothers, and without specific orders to the contrary, the guards in the courtyard wouldn't have stopped Gilbert boarding the carriage. I'd have to rectify that.

What was it she hadn't said about Gilbert? 'He was actually...' What? It sounded as though he had reassured her about her mother's condition, but that was hardly evidence of compassion. He'd wanted to get her onto the carriage and alone with him. A hundred scenarios of what could have transpired between them flew through my mind as I dressed and readied myself for the day. I knew I shouldn't ask. Doing so would serve no purpose beyond upsetting me more. And yet, when I exited the bathroom, the question slipped out unbidden: "Did he bite you?"

She froze. She'd finished eating breakfast and was now bent over the bed with her back to me. Her shoulders lifted and slumped in a resigned sigh, and then her hands resumed smoothing the comforter. "Prince Luke told you?"

"No."

She tensed and spun to face me, green eyes wide in a face that was already bright red. "Prince Gilbert told you?" she asked, her voice squeaking.

That was an interesting reaction.

"Yes."

She swallowed. "He didn't... say... anything else... did he?"

"He said you liked it."

She collapsed on the bed, covering her face with her hands and moaning, "I can't believe he told you that."