The Beast and I

Chapter Two: Nadiya

Nadiya

I heaved the bucket up from the well, swearing as it sloshes over the edges. If Grégory were here…I shoved the thought away, trying to keep my focus. I couldn’t think of Grégory now; he was gone and wouldn’t return for at least another couple of days. I’d manage without him. I have to manage without him. This thought angered me for some reason and I immediately dropped the bucket, spilling its contents all over my clothes. I let out another oath and angrily let it drop back down into the well. 

I threw my arms into the air and started to walk away and then sighed, collapsing into myself before walking back to the moldy stones. Carefully I grabbed the rope that led down into the water, hoisting it up for the second time that day. When the bucket surfaced over the rim, I continued lifting with one hand and tried to grab the thin handle with the other. I bit my lip in concentration. 

My fingers closed over the clammy metal and I finished heaving it over the side. One down, twelve to go, I thought bitterly to myself. I hauled the bucket across a wide field towards the stables, the heavy straps scarring my palms. I set the bucket down and wiped a few drops of sweat from my brow, frowning at the distance still remaining between me and the trough I was supposed to be filling.

I’d never been a big fan of Grégory’s horses. His insistent collecting of them made me want to hit him over the head. Father’s wealth shouldn’t be squandered this way. I began to fume again with the old argument, even though Grégory wasn’t there to defend himself. The hot anger flowed through my veins and gave me the strength to make it to the long trough that lined the outer part of the stables. I poured the contents of the bucket into it, my anger draining as I watched only a few centimeters of the bottom fill. I sighed just before I hear the crack of thunder breaking above my head. I look up.

The day had bloomed bright and clear, but now clouds rolled in, thick and dark and angry. I smiled happily to myself and set down my bucket. I spread my arms, welcoming the rain that would be my reprieve from my chores. A fat drop landed on my forehead, stinging slightly on impact. It slid down my face, blending with my sweat.

“Nadiya! Get in here child, before you catch cold.” I opened my eyes to see Jolene, our caretaker, waving to me from the door of our house. I slowly lowered my arms, and with one last glance at the sky, ran to meet her. “What on earth were you doing out there?” she asked me, handing me a cup of tea. 

“Grégory’s chores. He forgot to hire someone from the village.” Jolene shifted awkwardly before turning back to the stove. “Jolene?” I asked, knowing her well enough that her lack of nagging meant something was up. She stiffened and pulled a wooden spoon from one of her pockets and began to stir. “Jolene, what’s the matter? You’re stirring the tea again.” She glanced down at her hand and carefully removed the spoon. I set my cup down and went to her, leaning into her plump form and wrapping my arms around her. “What’s the matter? What has you so flustered today?” I whispered into her hair.

“It’s nothing, child, really. I was just worried about your brother.” I released her, knowing full well that she was lying. Jolene never worried about Grégory. No one ever worried about Grégory, for Grégory was the one that everyone loved. He was the bread-winner, the champion, while I was just… I let the thought trail off while I grabbed my cup again and took a large swallow. Jolene turned back to me and embraced me, tilting the cup and making it dribble down my face. 

I shoved her away. “You’re not worried about Grégory,” I stated, finding a rag and wiping my face. “You’re worried about who he’ll find for me, if anyone.” Her eyes softened but she didn’t deny my words. She watched me dab at the wet spots on my dress for a moment, choosing her words carefully.

“I worry about that too, Nadiya. I’m an old woman, how could I not? I’ve watched over you since you were a babe, and now to think that you’re old enough to wed? That breaks my heart.” Her words did nothing to soothe me, instead they angered me. I dropped the rag and crossed my arms.

“So really, you’re not worried that Grégory won’t be able to travel far enough away that people won’t know of our lineage? That he won’t be able to trick some Lord into marrying me? Because I worry about that Jolene. I’m just the only one around here that’s not afraid to admit it.” She bit her lip at my outburst and I felt immediately guilty. 

“You’re right Nadiya. I do worry about that. I don’t think it’s fair that you have to suffer because of who your parents were. You aren’t them, and I just hope your brother can find someone who understands that.” I sighed, releasing my anger. 

“He won’t, Jolene.” She didn’t respond; she merely rubbed my arm with her little hands. I felt on the verge of tears and I knew it was time to leave the kitchen. “I’m going to go…change.” I said, moving away from her touch.

“You do that, child. It’ll make you feel better.” I choked on a laugh. Nothing will make me feel better. I had spent too many years believing that life would be better for me one day. Too many hours I’d spent in my room reading books about love and how the right person could see past anything. None of this was true; my life was a testament to that. People judged so quickly, sometimes with nothing to base their opinions on besides pure rumor. 

I left the kitchen, but I didn’t go to my room to change like I had told Jolene. Instead I walked up the staircase and down the hall into my father’s old study. It was there that I felt most like myself, the most accepted. My father was the last male who could stand being around me, aside from Grégory. Except now I could feel Grégory shifting away from me, feel him detaching himself from my presence. It was part of the reason I insisted he go find me a husband. Part of the reason I demanded he go through with his own wedding. That if nothing else he would give me the old woodcutter’s cabin on the edge of our lands. 

I grabbed a random book from one of the shelves lining the walls of the study, running my hand over the aged leather. The weight of it in my hand was more soothing than any reassurances Jolene could offer. I tapped the spine, refusing to read the curling letters that decorate it. I’d read all the books in the room a thousand times over, and I relished in my ability to name each one by the first sentence scrawled on the page. 

The book I held was once my father’s favorite, and the edges were worn with the oils from his fingers. I smiled to myself as I touched the dog-eared corners. I missed my father more than I cared to admit. He’d been the balm of my existence for as long as I could remember, my cornerstone when Grégory and I fought. I sighed and set the book down again. Grégory. 

He should have been back by now, and as much as I didn’t care to admit it, I was worried. I glanced to the window, half-hoping to see him riding down the path like a knight in shining armor, but he didn’t come. I went to the window and pressed my palm to the cool glass, watching as raindrops slide past. I squinted harder against the thickening drops. Is that a horse and rider approaching? 

It was. A wave of relief flowed through me at the sight of the horse galloping up the drive. I moved away from the window. It would be better if I changed before Grégory saw me. If he had news of my husband, I should at least look like a presentable bride, and if not… I pushed the thought away as I walked into my room and closed the door behind me. It was always best to not worry about the future.