by Ana Mardoll
He stared at her for a long moment, and Bella felt the blood drain from her face. "Did I go too far?" she thought anxiously, but then his feline lips parted in a wide grin. "Are you suggesting," he said, in a falsely hurt tone, "that your humble beast smells like anything other than a bed of roses?"
"More like a wet dog," she countered with a wrinkled nose, but her hand stroked his arm reassuringly so that he would know she wasn't serious. She plucked at his sleeve and stood up. "Will you come help me now?" she asked.
He rose slowly, glancing back at the basket at his feet. "You haven't had any breakfast," he protested, but she smiled and pulled him after her.
Bella remembered the thick wooden washing tub that she had found four days earlier in the servants' quarters. It was far too heavy for her to move, but Ezio managed to turn the heavy tub on its side and roll it through the empty stables to the well. With each bounce, dust flew from the wooden slats, and what remained behind was whipped away by the wind as soon as it was dragged out into the sunlight.
Bella prattled cheerfully as they worked. Ezio drew the water while Bella soaked and washed all her dresses save the one she had on. She was careful to keep the conversation light; she told him of the village she grew up in and some stories of her friends, and Ezio listened with obvious pleasure, interrupting frequently to clarify some point or detail in his mind.
Once her dresses were cleaned and hung carefully over a few thick tree branches to dry, she turned to Ezio. "Do you have any clothes that we can wash?" she asked, a little embarrassed. She'd only ever seen her beast-husband in the same torn and ragged clothing.
He looked equally uncomfortable as he gently pawed at a trailing ragged edge on one sleeve. "No, I'm afraid all I have are these," he said. Bella thought he looked as though he wanted to say more, but he offered no further explanation.
"Well, that's all right," she said cheerfully. "You'll just have to, ah, wash everything all together." She felt herself blush, and saw Ezio watching her with interest. "We don't want you to catch cold," she said hurriedly, "so I'll get a fire started in the yard." That, at least, she could do; she'd helped Father burn scrub in the yard enough times that she could light and tend a fire without difficulty. She hurried off, wishing that her cheeks weren't burning so brightly.
She hadn't planned it, but the fire turned out to be a good excuse to walk the perimeter of the property between the silver fence and the rose hedge. Bella walked slowly, gathering branches that had fallen from the forest trees over on to the castle property. All the while, she scanned the forest nervously, searching for any sign of Fiorita and cringing a little at the occasional wolf howl that issued from deep within the forest. "I hope she's all right," Bella fretted, biting her lip and feeling guilty all over again. When she had a large pile of wood and dried leaves, she carried them carefully back to the castle yard.
The fire itself turned out to be easier than she had expected. A large fire pit had already been dug out back behind the stables. The grass had been cultivated away from the pit, but a few weeds were starting to poke through the dry ground; Bella pulled them carefully before starting her small fire.
While she worked, she couldn't help but glance back at the wooden tub and its occupant. Ezio washed with his back to her, his features obscured by the wooden walls of the tub and the distance between them. "What would it be like," she wondered, "to wake up with a different body from the one you'd always had?" She turned her attention back to her fire and fed the small flames a few more dried twigs.
A thought struck her, and after checking to make sure the fire was contained, she ran quickly back inside the castle. She grabbed a sheet from their bed and hurried outside, holding the sheet awkwardly in front of her. "Ezio?" she called out, turning her head away as she walked towards the tub, "Ezio, I'm bringing you a sheet."
She stumbled a little on the lawn before the tub came into her field of view and she stopped, staring intently at the ground and holding the sheet out expectantly. She heard the beast rise from the tub with a great deal of splashing and shaking -- "He really does smell like a wet dog," she realized with a startled giggle -- and the sheet was taken gently from her hands.
"Thank you," he said warmly, and though she closed her eyes politely, she could not help but peek out a moment later. Ezio stood with his back to her as he carefully wrapped the sheet around himself. His shoulders and back were covered in the same coarse animal hair that coated his limbs and face. "If he was once human, he's not anymore," she thought. "Not underneath his clothes, anyway." Bella was surprised that the realization was tinged with disappointment. A part of her had hoped for a hint that the beast was once human, that he might perhaps be able to turn back.
"The fire is over there," she blurted out, pointing and squinting her eyes against thoughts she wasn't ready to work out.
"Thank you again," Ezio said, and Bella opened her eyes to see the smile she heard in his voice. He had wrapped himself quite neatly in the sheet and was bowing teasingly before her. "Let me draw fresh water for you first, though," he said.
He was better than his word. After dumping out the dirty bathwater, Ezio rinsed the tub twice and filled it with clean water. Then he carefully carried stones that had warmed near her small fire and dropped them into the water to take the edge off the cold. Lastly, he stepped into the orchard to change back into his nearly-dried clothes before draping the sheet into a curtain to shield her. "I feel like a princess," she teased, and he grinned at her.
"Now you'll know I'm not watching while I tend my roses," he said.
"Thank you," she said gratefully, and he grinned again before heading off towards the castle gate.
Bella sank into the bath with a sigh, feeling as though all her worries were drawn out into the lukewarm water. She crouched low in the tub, dipping her hair and scrubbing furiously. Once the grime had worked out of her hair, she leaned her head back against the edge of the tub and stared lazily up at the afternoon sun.
It was odd, she reflected, how life could turn out so differently from what was expected. When Father had married Venizia, Bella had looked forward to having servants tend the household again; she had been more than ready to relinquish the laundry and cleaning duties. And yet working with Ezio had been rewarding, almost fun. She was proud at how she'd been able to coax him from his melancholy, and she had felt free to talk to him in a way that she never before would have with her friends and family.
"Maybe it's because I'm not trying to impress him," she thought solemnly. Somewhere during their work that morning, she had stopped watching every word. Absorbed in her work, she'd spoken freely without worrying about putting herself in the best light or ensuring that he was perfectly entertained and completely happy. Instead, she'd just talked, and Ezio had listened as though she were the most interesting person for miles, which she supposed she might well be. It was nice.
Bella shook her head slowly to settle her thoughts and splashed water on her face. "You're supposed to be thinking about getting out of here," she chided, but she frowned and stared at the wavy reflection of her face in the water. Did she want to go home? She wasn't sure. She missed her stepmother and stepsisters, and she needed to see Father, if only for one last time. As angry as she was with him, she didn't want their final farewell to be that frightening and confusing night when she was first brought here.
And yet, a part of her was starting to see some value in staying. Bella had always known she would marry, so she had kept her dreams deliberately vague; there was no sense in wishing for a life your husband wouldn't let you live. Here, trapped in this castle, she felt a paradoxical sense of freedom: within the limitations of her confinement, she could live however she liked. Food was abundant, the library was full of more books than she could read in a lifetime, and the company was pleasant and eager to please. Here she was loved, here she was wanted. "There are worse ways to live," Bella mused, thinking of some of the wives back home.
The sun was setting fast when Bella stepped out
of the tub and into her clean clothes. They had dried stiffly in the sun, but soon warmed with her body heat. She stared appreciatively at the orange and pink streaks that shot through the blue sky. "It's not like I have to make my mind up right away," she thought, in answer to an unspoken question.
"Bella!" The voice carried down the valley. "Bella, are you decent? Is the fire still going? I've got dinner for us!" She pulled down the sheet curtain to see Ezio striding down the road, a dead hare dangling from his raised fist.
"I ... What is that?" she called to him, not sure whether to believe her eyes.
"It's a hare that I caught," he said proudly, veering towards the fire and motioning eagerly for her to follow. Involuntarily she made a face, and Ezio burst out his barking laugh. "Oh, please don't frown so," he teased. "I caught it in a trap and broke its neck; I didn't use my teeth. See?" he held the hare out for her to inspect. "I wouldn't get blood on my only clothes," he said with mock solemnity.
Bella peered nervously at the hare, but saw that he was right. She looked up at him in alarm. "How ... do we get the meat out?" she asked uncertainly. She'd never butchered a hare before, though she'd cooked a few whole for Father and herself.
"That's easy enough," Ezio said, but his pride was tinged with a touch of embarrassment. He brandished his paw carefully and said, "These claws aren't just for show, you know." His ears twitched lightly and Bella stared at him in shock before giggling nervously.
"I suppose they aren't," she agreed, and together they knelt by the fire. Bella fed the flame more wood as she watched Ezio expertly skin and cut the hare flesh with small, precise movements of his claws. He dipped his fingers in a small bucket of water that Bella fetched for him, and carefully threaded thick strips of meat on to long sticks to suspend over the fire. As the fat on the meat crackled and spit, Bella felt her stomach growl with anticipation.
"You've done this before," she said with open admiration.
"I used to be quite the hunter," Ezio said proudly, before suddenly cutting himself off and falling silent.
Bella had seen him do this before, and now the pieces fell into place. "He doesn't like to talk about when he was human," she realized. She supposed she might not either, in his position. She pushed the thought aside, determined not to lapse into unhappiness. "I'm impressed," she assured him. "Between the well and the orchard and your hunting skills, I'm well provided for here." She smiled warmly at him as his head swung up to meet her gaze.
His eyes held steady for a moment before sliding away from her own and focusing on the flickering fire. In the waning daylight, he looked positively morose. "Not well enough," he said quietly, and Bella leaned forward to hear. He tried to smile ironically, but the effort didn't reach his eyes. "I don't even have a second set of clothing here."
She stared at him, weighing her options. "Ezio?" He looked up at her. "You said I was free to visit my family if I liked?"
His eyes widened, and she saw his ears spasm violently. "Do you want to leave me?" he asked, and his voice held a rising note of panic.
"I've really upset him," Bella thought. She leaned forward and placed her hand gently over his. "Ezio," she said evenly, "I do not want to leave you." She put as much force into the words as she dared, hoping to reassure him. "I want to visit my family." She hesitated, looking for the right words, feeling his dark eyes watching every expression that crossed her face.
"My father, when he brought me here, was in ... a hurry." She spoke slowly, picking her words carefully. "My stepmother and sisters ... I didn't have a chance to say goodbye. I think they are worried about me, and I want a chance to reassure them that I'm happy here." Bella paused, but he was still staring silently at her, offering nothing. She continued doggedly on; "If I go for a visit, I can demand my dowry from my father and bring back some necessities for us." She smiled cheerily at him. "And then you can have a second set of clothing. I'll sew it for you myself," she finished.
She held her breath and waited. Torn between keeping eye contact with him to prove she was sincere, and looking away to give him space to think, she settled on focusing on the roasting meat and gingerly turning it over the flames. Her ears strained so hard to hear Ezio's breathing -- "Too fast? Too slow?" -- that she jumped when he spoke.
"Bella ..." She looked up to see his eyes gazing sadly at her. "Of course you can go." He looked down at the ground, his face as downcast as Bella had ever seen.
"Thank you, Ezio," she said meekly, and knelt to sit next to him. She felt giddy with relief; "It really is going to be just fine," she thought. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and breathed deeply the smoke and scent of cooking meat. "I'll walk to the village tomorrow," she murmured happily. "Just as soon as you tell me the way. I won't be gone more than a week at the most, you'll see."
Ezio nodded, but said nothing; Bella decided not to push the issue any further. They ate in silence, the warm meat filling her stomach and adding to the sense of well-being that permeated through her. As the sun dipped below the horizon and the embers slowly smothered in ash, she snuggled closer to him, basking in his warmth. "Maybe someday he'll tell me how we can change him back," she daydreamed. "Although I don't mind if he stays this way forever." She sighed contentedly, and allowed herself a quiet giggle at the thought that her companionable beast was a better husband than any man in her home village.
"Bella?" he said quietly.
"Yes, Ezio?"
"It's time to go in to bed, I think," he said softly.
Bella realized she had been nodding off. "All right, Ezio," she said sleepily, and as he gathered up the bedsheet and her dresses from the trees and carried them inside, she was happy enough to follow him through the winding corridors of the dark castle.
Once in bed, she began to shiver. Now that they were away from the warm fire, her wet hair suddenly seemed especially cold and damp.
"Do you want me to light a fire?" Ezio asked, lying still in the bed next to her.
"No ... here ..." Blinking back sleep, she gently gripped his arm and pulled it out from his side. Carefully avoiding his claws, she lay down next to him with her head pressed into his shoulder and her face nuzzled into the warmth of his side. "Good night," she mumbled into his chest.
She could feel his heart beating wildly and she sensed that he was holding his breath as though he were afraid to move. "Good night, Bella," he said. He hesitated, and then asked, "Are you sure you're comfortable?"
"Yes, thank you," she murmured. It occurred to her that during dinner Ezio had broken his nightly tradition: he hadn't announced that he loved her. "Does he feel bad always being the first one to say it?" Bella wondered blearily.
Turning her head slightly so that he would be able to hear her, she said, "I love you, Ezio." Then she cuddled her head back into the safety of his warmth and closed her eyes.
Chapter 15 - Ezio
Ezio lay perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe for fear of disturbing the sleeping girl. He felt her warm breath stir over him as she snored quietly. His shoulder ached slightly from the weight of her head, but he was too shocked to mind the pain.
"She loves me!" She had said so unbidden, without his usual prompting. She loved him, and she had touched him without fear, and now everything was going to be all right. Ezio closed his eyes and waited for the transformation to take him, imagining the look on Bella's face when she would see him as a human for the first time.
He felt the seconds tick by slowly, and with every minute that passed, he was acutely aware of nothing happening. He opened his eyes, but every detail of the room was still unnaturally bright to his animal eyes; he had not turned back.
"Maybe I need to fall asleep first?" Ezio wondered. His anxiety was building, and he felt his stomach clench painfully. He shut his eyes tight and hoped fervently for sleep, but his mind could not stop racing. Bella's snores seemed to pound at his brain. "Just relax. Be calm," he counseled himself, but Ezio knew that he was nowhere near sleep.
The uncomfortable tingling
in his shoulder was starting to spread through his arm and down his side. He shifted his arm carefully and was able to draw his arm out from under her head. A soft squeal of displeasure escaped her lips as his sleeve caught and pulled sharply on her hair, but after a quick adjustment the girl lapsed back into sleep and Ezio was free.
He sat up slowly in bed and swung his legs over the side. "Now what?" He couldn't sleep, and he couldn't bear to contemplate why he hadn't changed back into the form he so desperately craved. The girl was shivering slightly in the bed beside him, and Ezio realized that the air had become much cooler in advance of the coming storm.
Instinctively he reached out a hand to stroke her wet head, but as always he paused just before contact; it would be too easy to hurt her accidentally with his claws. "At least she was impressed at the way I filleted the hare," he thought sadly. The alternative -- that she would be frightened and horrified -- had been enough motivation to restrict his diet to the orchard since she arrived, but he had decided to take the risk when he had glimpsed her in the bath and realized how slender she had become. "She isn't accustomed to this life," he thought, but became more despondent as he realized that neither was he.
Ezio decided that he would build a fire; if he could not warm the girl with his hands, then he could at least make the room more comfortable for her. He stepped carefully across the room, grateful again that Bella could sleep through his loud footsteps. Kneeling by the fireplace, he carefully set and lit the flame, mindful of his own fur and the danger it represented. "If I burned all my hair off, would I be a man again?" he thought with a smile, but once the flame was lit and he knelt back to bask in its warmth, he felt his spirits sink again.