The Nutcracker King (Coming From Darkness #1)

Chapter 4 Part 1: Marie

"Really, Marie, I don't see why you had to wash those bed sheets all by yourself, even if they were dirty. You've probably given yourself a cold." Mother bustled about, taking the pot of hot tea from Cook to pour Marie a cup. "Don't forget a lemon," she added.

Marie took the cup and quietly sipped it. There was no point in explaining anything to Mother. She had not believed Marie then, and she would not believe Marie now. Thankfully, mother had come up with her own explanation of why Marie would strip her bed in the middle of the night, wash the sheets, fall asleep among the wet sheets and wake up with a slight cold.

"Achoo!" Marie sneezed.

Mother looked worried. "Should I call your father?" she asked, placing a hand on Marie's forehead.

"No, please."

"Alright," mother said reluctantly. "But I want you resting in bed today. Now, would you like me to bring you a book? I have some novels you may like."

*******

Marie spent the afternoon reading, and as she read, her opinion of the night before started to change. The book was about the romance between Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere, star-crossed lovers who could never be. Lancelot actually duelled for her. And when they were caught and her honour was at stake, he killed the knights waiting outside her chamber.

The Nutcracker had said he loved her, and that he killed Pirlipat for her. Pirlipat was the reason the Nutcracker was cursed, so she was an enemy, right?

But the Nutcracker, what an awful sight he was covered in blood. Could that have been the visage of a hero?

"Goodness, Miss Marie," Cook said as she came in with a tray, "you're redder than ever! Should I call for your father?"

"Please, no, Cook. It's nothing. Thank you for the tray," Marie said.

Cook smiled kindly and placed it on her lap. "You just eat up, Miss Marie, and you'll be able to see your gentleman caller by tomorrow."

"Um, cook?" Marie called out as cook was stepping out of the room, "is it truly romantic for a man to commit an, um, crime for you? Like fighting others?"

Cook stopped and turn back, a frown on her face. "Miss Marie, what gave you that idea?"

"Well," Marie mumbled, "I was reading mother's book, and I thought about the old stories, like Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere. It's so romantic. I was thinking, what if someone killed someone because he loved you, and he thought he was doing it for you. The way Sir Lancelot did." Marie wanted to explain herself fully, but the stormy look on Cook's face told her it wasn't a good idea.

"If reading your mother's books gives you such ridiculous ideas, I shall tell your mother to take it away. You may be grown, but you'll always be a little girl to me," she said sternly. "Now, Miss Marie, books are books and life is life. My old man used to fight in bars, and I thought it was romantic as well, until he nearly got himself killed over nothing. Listen to Cook and pick a nice steady man like that Herr Schmidt, not one of Master Fritz's nasty friends."

A little while after Cook left, mother returned, with another book in hand. These stories, however, were duller: stories about saints and martyrs.

"Cook tells me you've had 'strange ideas' placed in your head from my books," she said as she took away the romance novel and left the dull stories in its place, "I think they're harmless, but Cook means well. Perhaps these would be better, you should not excite yourself while resting."

*******

"Demoiselle Marie? Will you come tonight?"

She couldn't shake the image of him, smiling his awful grin and covered in blood.