Pulchritude

by Ana Mardoll

"Are you all right, Fiorita? And Marchetta and Venizia?"

  Ezio frowned, wondering who they could be. "Relatives?" he hazarded doubtfully, but then remembered, "The merchant said he had daughters." They must be sisters, then. He studied the plump black girl again and amended himself: "Stepsisters, at any rate."

  "We're fine," the young girl was saying, between tears. She released her grip on Bella and wiped her wet face with the back of her hand, a gesture that struck Ezio as touchingly child-like. She smiled bravely and said, "We're all fine. Are you sure you're all right, Bella?"

  "Yes," Bella responded instantly, but Ezio was frustrated to hear the sadness in her voice. "Am I just a hardship to her?" he thought, but was mollified to hear her say, "Ezio has been nothing but kind to me."

  "Ezio?" Fiorita asked with a frown. She glanced behind her, and Ezio was astonished to suddenly recognize Flavio hanging back against the tree-line of the forest, blending into the deep shadows and looking exceedingly nervous.

  What was Flavio doing here? Ezio could hardly imagine. "Kidnapping my bride in revenge? Or just hiring out to the girl's family?" He felt his blood boil; it was bad enough that Flavio fled with the rest of the ingrates, but to make his living from Ezio's misfortune was truly low.

  "That's the prince, the beast-man?" Fiorita asked Bella, after receiving an anxious nod from Flavio.

  Ezio held his breath. "No no no no." The word was pounding in his brain. "I should have charged the gate when I had the chance," he thought, but it was too late. His bride was nodding slowly.

  "Y-yes," she said hesitantly. "Yes, Ezio is my ... well, I'm not sure." She shook her head. "My beast, my prince, my husband." She laughed, her voice high and strained. "All three, I suppose. He says he loves me." A little fearfully, she glanced back over her shoulder, and Ezio cringed as her eyes swept over the area where he stood. The spell held, though, for he did not see recognition in her eyes.

  "She didn't see me," Ezio thought with relief.

  "Bella," Fiorita begged. "Please, can you come home? Everything is so wrong without you."

  Bella seemed unable to meet the girl's gaze; she stared intently at the ground, and asked in a whisper, "Does Father want me to come home?" Ezio watched the other girl hesitate for a moment too long, and he felt an unexpected sympathy for Bella when she squared her shoulders and said calmly, "I see."

  "It's not like that," Fiorita insisted, but her voice held a note of doubt. "It's more ... complicated than that. Cienzo has told everyone that you've married a rich man, which I suppose is true, but Mama has told everyone that he's abandoned you in the country or left you with a monster, and the village is choosing sides."

  She glanced back at Flavio, who was still peering nervously at the castle. "That man, Flavio," Fiorita whispered and Ezio had to strain forward to hear. "He's afraid there will be blood if Mama convinces enough of the villagers. Please, Bella, you have to come back."

  Bella looked so dejected that Ezio thought she might cry. He held his breath and waited for her to suggest a way to get through the fence. "Tunneling under or squeezing through?" he thought. Either way, he needed to be ready to step in. Instead, she said finally, "I ... I can't leave, Fiorita."

  Ezio's heart swelled with relief, but it quickly died when Bella half-heartedly tugged on the gate latch and said, "It won't open for me, you see?"

  Tears welled up in Fiorita's eyes. "But we rode all this way to get you."

  "I know," Bella said. She placed her hand on the girl's cheek. "I know, and thank you. You don't know what this means to me." She smiled and said, "I'll come home to visit as soon as I can. Don't worry; he said I could. Until then, please give Venizia and Marchetta my love, all right?" She reached through the bars and embraced the girl again before kissing her once on the cheek and turning away.

  Ezio strode quickly back to the castle's edge, looking anxiously for Guerrino and sighing in relief when he saw the old man staring at him from the deep shadow of a stone overhang. "Well?" Guerrino said tersely when Ezio joined him, panting from the exertion of his walk.

  "She's ... staying," Ezio said. Guerrino nodded and began his quiet mumbling to reverse the spell. Ezio watched with detached interest as color slowly seeped into his body and drained out of Guerrino's own. "She told them the gate wouldn't open for her. She never suggested squeezing through."

  The outline that barely glimmered in the dark shadows nodded approvingly. "It's lucky she hasn't thought of any alternatives," Guerrino said. "I'll be in my tower, watching to make sure they leave. Who were they?" he asked as an afterthought.

  Ezio hesitated, still breathing deeply. "Her sister, I think," he said, "and ... and my brother." He could feel Guerrino's hard eyes on him, but the shape merely nodded and walked away, shimmering briefly as he passed from shadow into light.

  Ezio stared after the retreating magician, feeling drained. It suddenly struck him that he was lonely. "Should I have let them come in?" he wondered, but then dismissed the notion. He'd had a hard enough time competing against Flavio's charm when he was a prince. Now that he was ... what he was, a girl like Bella would never look at him again if she had his handsome half-brother to focus on instead. Better for Flavio to go back to wherever he came from.

  He started his circuit around the hedge again, lost in his own melancholy thoughts. When he rounded the other side of the castle, he saw Bella had resumed sitting on her cloth by the road. She was facing the castle now, instead of the gate, and as she stared at the book that lay in her lap, Ezio could see her eyes weren't moving over the page. "She looks so miserable."

  The sun was starting to set for the evening and bright orange streaks were spreading through the sky. Usually, the girl would have taken this as a sign to pack up her basket and head into the castle, but Ezio could see no signal that Bella was ready to go inside. She seemed lost in her thoughts, and Ezio felt a pang. "She hasn't complained once since she got here," he realized. Maybe it wasn't fair for him to expect so much of her so soon, nor to blame her for wanting to leave.

  A thought occurred to him, and he quietly made his way along the hedge back behind the castle. The stable entrance was cold and dusty, but the door opened easily and he slipped inside. He headed quickly to the kitchen and grabbed up a basket and stepped out into the orchard. He moved methodically down the rows of trees and vines, pulling down the produce that Guerrino's magic kept perpetually ripe and juicy. "I need more pears," Ezio thought, surveying his half-full basket. Bella was particularly fond of pears.

  Once his basket was full, he held it carefully in the flat of his palms and strode out to the front road where Bella was still sitting. He saw her glance up and jump guiltily to her feet; as she shoved her book in her basket and started to fold up her seating cloth, he called to her.

  "Oh, no, please don't get up!" If possible, she looked even more startled. He tried to temper his voice into a more casual tone. "You looked so peaceful sitting there, I thought we might have dinner out here."

  Bella hesitated, but nodded and smoothed down the corner of the cloth. When he reached her, she gently took the basket from his hands and lowered herself into a sitting position on the cloth. He knelt carefully beside her and pulled a fig from the basket, nodding for her to start eating.

  "Thank you," she said, as polite as always.

  "You're welcome, Bella," he said, hoping that his smile was reassuring to her.

  They ate in silence, with none of the cheerful chatter that Ezio had come to expect from her. She seemed distant and sad, and Ezio alternated between feeling sorry for the girl and sorry for himself. Nothing was the way he wanted it to be. Instead of living his life and planning his future, he was stuck in a body repellent to him, wooing a melancholy merchant's daughter. He hadn't asked for the fata to curse him; he hadn't asked for any of this. He looked at the girl, still lost in her own thoughts; "She hasn't exactly asked for any of this either," he thought wryly.

  "Bella," he ventured, breaking the silence, "Are you ... happy here?"

>   She looked up sharply, and he thought he saw worry on her face before her features resolved into a mask of polite cheerfulness. "Yes, thank you," she said brightly. "The castle is so lovely, and you've been so kind." She smiled at him, a smile so wide that Ezio imagined her teeth must ache.

  "Bella ..." he said, and his voice trailed off. "How can I break through to her?" he thought with frustration. "Bella, that's very kind of you to say, thank you. But I know that you must have left things behind when you came here to live with me." He hesitated, looking for the right words. "You must have had friends, and ... and your father said you had sisters?" He saw her eyes widen, and he realized she was thinking of Fiorita's visit. He plunged on awkwardly. "I just mean ... it would be perfectly natural for you to miss them." Ezio wondered if he'd made matters worse.

  She was quiet for a moment, staring down at her hands as they played nervously with a peach pit. When she spoke, her voice was so low that Ezio had to strain to hear her. "You have been very kind," she said, "but you're right that I left my stepmother and stepsisters when I came here. I ... I miss them. And I worry that they don't know whether I'm safe or not." She looked up nervously at this last part, and Ezio tried to smile reassuringly.

  "And your father?" he prompted, hoping to keep the girl talking.

  "Yes. I miss him too. I think." Her eyes were filling with tears, but she managed a smile. "It's complicated, I suppose," she said with a weak laugh.

  Ezio stared at her in the gathering dusk that still seemed as bright as day to his changed eyes. What plans had this girl made before she'd given them up to save her father's life? Had she had a lover she was planning to marry, or was she considering a profession? From the way she repaired the gowns she'd found in the castle, Ezio knew she was handy with a needle and thread, but beyond that he knew almost nothing about her. When he turned back into a human and regained his titles and lands, he could give her a comfortable life, one where her hands need never be dirtied with common chores. Work was done by the servants who lived on his lands; his bride's life would be a comparatively easy one. "But she doesn't know that," Ezio realized.

  She was still looking down at her peach pit. "Your father should be very grateful for what you did for him," Ezio offered awkwardly. She looked up at him warily, and he stumbled a little. "I mean ... it can't have been easy to give up your freedom in order to save him."

  "I'm sure he would have done the same for me," she said, but her eyes slid away from his. "He's always told me how much he loves me," she said quietly.

  "My father ... I never really felt like he appreciated me," Ezio said quietly. She looked up at him, and he was surprised to find himself saying, "I never felt like I was enough for him. Even though I was his only legitimate son, it seemed like he cared more for my half-brother than he did for me." He blinked at her, wondering why he was saying all this. "She must think I sound like a spoiled child," he thought with chagrin.

  "Where is your father now?" she asked, curiosity winning over her politeness.

  "He died. Not too long ago," Ezio said. His voice sounded flat in his ears and he wondered if he should feel some emotion beyond numbness at his father's passing.

  "I'm very sorry to hear that."

  "Thank you," he whispered. He laid his hand carefully on the blanket beside her own; it was the closest he could come to touching her. His eyes met hers, and he felt less alone. "You're here now," he said warmly. "That's all I need. Bella ..." he hesitated, surprised by the strength of emotion that swept through him. He felt like crying, or maybe laughing, or possibly both. "Bella, I love you."

  Once again, that sweetly sad smile stole over her face. And just as she had said every night for the past week, she said, "I love you too, Ezio."

  Ezio felt his heart sink. It was the right thing to say: she was, as always, willing to say what she thought he needed to hear. She wanted to please him, and he knew that was a first, crucial step. But, even so, he felt a sudden pang of sadness at her docile answer. "I meant it this time," he realized sorrowfully.

  Chapter 14 - Bella

  Bella opened her eyes to the warm morning sunlight and stretched sleepily in bed. She was alone in bed, which was not unusual. In the days since she'd come to live in the castle, Ezio had rarely been in the room when she woke. At first his absence had been a welcome relief, but now that she no longer feared him, it was merely curious. "He's probably checking his roses again," Bella thought. His obsession with the hedge still baffled her, but she supposed it represented a feast for his eyes in the same way that the magic orchard provided feasts for his stomach.

  Thinking of the hedge reminded her of the strange events from yesterday, how Fiorita had suddenly pitched up at the front gate with a stranger and horse in tow. Bella had longed for news of her family, but Fiorita's tale had not brought her any comfort: Father and Venizia at odds, and Father insisting that Bella had married well to a rich suitor. Bella frowned and picked at a piece of lint from her pillow. "Does he believe that?" she thought. For that matter, was it true? She'd searched the house from room to room, and had found no treasures beyond a few pieces of silverware and three gold coins tucked in the back of a cupboard. Her prince-husband, if indeed that was what he was, was not hiding any riches unless they were in the boarded-up towers. "At least I won't go hungry here," she thought with a smile, thinking of the magical orchard.

  She hadn't told Ezio about Fiorita's visit, and that fact made her uneasy. The beast, her beast -- as she was beginning to think of him -- had never hurt her, had never even raised his voice to her, and it seemed somehow wrong to deceive him about the visit. Yet she still remembered the bloody cuts on Father's arms that so closely corresponded to Ezio's sharp claws, and though she had worked up the courage last night to admit to being homesick, she still couldn't justify exposing Fiorita to danger.

  "Not that she isn't already in danger," Bella thought with a deep frown. It wasn't wise for Fiorita to be riding all over the countryside with a strange man as her escort. She hadn't had the time to ask Fiorita if the man was safe to travel with, but she fervently hoped that he was someone she knew and trusted from her home city. She wouldn't quite put it past Fiorita's trusting nature to run off with any stranger who was willing to listen to her tale.

  Bella sat up in bed and ran her fingers through the tangles in her hair. "There's nothing I can do about it now," she thought guiltily. She just hoped that Fiorita was safer on the outside of the gate with her male companion than she might have been on the inside of the gate with Bella's beast-husband.

  She frowned at her fingers and wiped them on her dress; after ten days at the castle, her hair was grimy and her clothes weren't much better. "I wonder if I can get Ezio to help me draw a bath after breakfast?" she thought. The sun was starting to stream steadily through the bedroom windows, but Ezio hadn't returned from wherever he went in the mornings. That was strange.

  When her stomach started to lightly grumble she decided to look for Ezio in the garden. She hopped up and pulled on her shoes, and then hesitated at the door. Her hair was not properly brushed and she was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, but after a moment she shrugged and threw open the bedroom door.

  "If he notices at all, he'll just say I look better than he does," she thought with a smile. Whatever had afflicted her prince with the form he now wore, it had also left him with a sense of humor about his frightening looks. "It would be easier to be despondent," she reflected, but then shied away from the thought. She was pleased he hadn't hurt her, and she appreciated his kindness, but she still wasn't sure she wanted to stay any longer than absolutely necessary.

  The orchard was as bright and lovely as it was every morning, but Bella noticed a dark bank of clouds far off in the sky that heralded rain. Soon the mild weather would pass, and she wondered how storms would affect life at the castle. "Will the roof hold up?" she thought, peering up at the castle behind her. She vaguely remembered Father having their own house re-roofed after a bad storm a few years back, and no
w she wished she could remember the details more clearly. There was just so much she didn't know. "I'll have to ask Ezio when I find him," she decided.

  "Ezio?" She called his name quietly as she walked between the orchard rows, unwilling to disturb the silence of the wind-rustled trees by raising her voice. The emptiness of the castle still unnerved her enough that she sometimes had the superstitious feeling she was being watched. "Ezio?" she asked again, her voice barely a whisper in the wind.

  Relief washed over her when she rounded the corner of a row of fig trees and saw him sitting quietly on one of the stone benches that decorated the orchard. He sat perfectly still, his fur gently ruffled by the wind.

  "There you are," she said brightly, walking cautiously toward him and seating herself on the bench next to him. She saw that he had a basket of fruits already at his feet and she bent to grab a pear and bite casually into it. "I've been looking for you."

  He looked up at her and smiled, but his movements were slow. "I'm sorry," he said. "I was deep in thought and lost track of the time."

  "He seems so sad," Bella realized with surprise. "Is it because of last night?" In her short time with Ezio, she'd seen his moods flow from humorous to whimsical to serious, but before yesterday all his moods had seemed focused on her, never on himself. Now he was acting painfully introspective, and she wondered if he was still thinking of his father.

  Force of habit prompted her to try to lift his dark mood. "But what can I say?" she thought helplessly. She snatched at the first thing she could think of. Cheerily she patted his shirt sleeve and said, "I know you have to check the hedge later, but do you think you could help me with something today?" She grinned at him.

  He looked as surprised as she had hoped; rarely had she asked anything of him. "What do you want?" he asked in that same flat voice, but Bella was certain she could hear a note of curiosity underneath it.

  Bella looked down shyly and felt a blush color her cheeks. "I was hoping you could help me drag one of the baths out to the well," she explained. "I need to do some washing, and it would be nice to have a bath while the weather is warm." She nodded at the dark clouds building on the horizon. Bella took a deep breath, and steeled her courage before playfully poking Ezio in the ribs and teasing, "You could use a bath too, you know."