by Lish McBride
If the beast hadn’t stopped to eat, he probably would have lost her in the tangled streets of lower Veritess. Instead he found her, mouth full of feathers and blood, her foot caught in the torn wire of a chicken coop. Tevin slowed then, pausing to bend in half and suck in air. “You led me for a merry chase, didn’t you, sweetheart?”
The beast snarled and continued to chew on what was left of the chicken.
“Naughty thing,” he said, inching closer. “Those aren’t yours to eat, are they? No, they were supposed to be someone else’s dinner.” He eyed the coop carefully. The beast had practically torn off a whole side of it, and whatever chickens she hadn’t eaten had escaped. Not only would the family have to pay for materials to rebuild the coop, but they’d also lost a source of food and income. From the look of the neighborhood, they couldn’t afford to lose either.
A window opened, and the beast ignored it except for tightening her hold on her meal. A young boy, probably the age of ten, peeked out. “That your dog, mister?”
“No,” Tevin said. “She’s her own master.”
The boy snorted. “Well, I’m thinkin’ she’s yours and you don’t want to be payin’ for her mess.” The boy leaned out farther, trying to see better. “She’s a big ’un. You can pay for her kibble, you can pay for our coop.”
“Right enough,” Tevin said. The problem was, he didn’t have a coin on him. “She’s not mine, though. Belongs to the baroness of Cravan.”
The boy whistled. “What kind of dog is it?”
“A big one, like you said,” Tevin said. “And not in the best of moods. Do you have a rope?”
The boy nodded but didn’t move. Smart lad. “You get me some rope for tonight, and tomorrow you stop by Cravan House. She’ll pay for the whole mess, promise.” The boy gave Tevin’s finery a good inspection before making a sharp nod of agreement. Even dirty and torn, his clothing still looked respectable, or the boy would have laughed him out of the alley. Relieved, Tevin rattled off the address of Merit’s home and waited for the rope.
In reality, he didn’t think the rope would hold the beast. No, he had to hope that his charm would do that. But it was a long walk back to Merit’s house, and it would go better if people thought he was walking a large, ugly dog. Sticking to the shadows wouldn’t be enough. He’d have to be charming. The boy tossed down a length of thin, grimy rope and closed the window, leaving Tevin alone with the beast. He slid the rope into a slipknot, leaving a loop big enough to put over the beast’s head.
Tevin stepped closer to the coop, dreading the walk home. If he needed to charm the beast and the people around them, he would need his voice to carry. Which either meant shouting all the way home . . . or singing.
He wasn’t a very good singer.
Not that it mattered to anyone else but him. For now, he kept his words soft and constant, moving closer and closer to the beast, hoping he could manage to get her home while a coop full of chickens was still the worst of her damage.
CHAPTER 19
CHICKEN FEATHERS GET EVERYWHERE
Merit woke up in her own bed, warm and safe. She wanted to burrow down deep into the mattress and never leave. Sunlight filtered in through the curtains, birds chirped, and someone was snoring softly. She was tired and didn’t want to move, but she couldn’t ignore that last part. She blinked her eyes against the sunlight and took in the room. She was in her bed, nestled up against Tevin, who was still wearing what was left of his suit from last night. His jacket, tie, and shoes were gone. His shirt and pants were torn, dirt caked in more than one spot. He only had one sock. His eyes were closed, the thick fringe of his lashes resting against his cheek. Beauty at rest. She should wake him. She should get up. Instead she curled back against his side and closed her eyes.
“You decided not to get up, then?” Tevin mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes. His voice was rough, barely pitched above a whisper.
“If I get out of this bed, nothing good will happen,” Merit said.
“What makes you say that?”
“The compiled evidence of every day before now,” Merit grumbled.
Tevin rasped a laugh. “Well, if you don’t get up, nothing good will happen either.”
“What’s wrong with your voice?”
“I had to serenade half the city last night on my way home,” Tevin said. “It was a long walk.”
Fear shot through her, and she tensed, but Tevin held her against him. The feeling surprised her so much she stopped struggling. Very few people felt comfortable touching her when she was a beast. Merit missed freely given hugs, and the gentle connection that touch could bring. “What did I do?”
“Nothing terrible,” Tevin said. “Rest easy on that. You destroyed a chicken coop, the door of a hack, and ate an ill-gotten dinner. No one was hurt, and you can pay for the damages. It’s okay.”
Someone knocked at the door. “Merit?” It was only Ellery, which relieved her. It was too early to take on her mother.
“Yes, Ellery?”
“You have a visitor. I told your mother that you needed rest and an exam after last night, but she wouldn’t send him away.”
“Give me a moment,” Merit said, levering herself up and out of the bed.
“It’s going to take more than a moment,” Tevin murmured.
“What do you mean?” Merit stood, her legs wobbly.
Tevin pointed at the mirror. Merit peeked and instantly understood what he meant. Her dress was shredded. She was caked in dirt and, worse, feathers sticking out of her fur. She needed a bath and a change of clothes. “You let us crawl into my bed like this?”
“Merit, if you think I had any energy to do more than that, you’re delusional.” Tevin rubbed his eyes, and Merit could see the shadows of exhaustion under them. “And I didn’t exactly want to summon one of the maids.”
She was grateful that he hadn’t, but now they had a problem. “Ellery, how long can you stall?”
“If I skip the exam until later, twenty, maybe thirty minutes.” Ellery hesitated. “You okay?”
“Yes,” Merit said. “Thank you.”
“Tell Ellery to come back when they’re done,” Tevin whispered.
“Ellery—can you run back here as soon as you let them know?”
“Of course,” Ellery said. “Consider it done.”
“Why do we need Ellery?” Merit asked, pulling Tevin out of the bed.
“Because you need help, and I’m not exactly a lady’s maid. I’m not sure how great Ellery is at it either, but at least no one will think twice about your healer being in here with you.”
Tevin moved past her and into her private bath. He turned on the spigots and let water fill the tub.
“I don’t have time for a bath.”
“Merit, you’re covered in who knows what, and neither of us are exactly springtime fresh.”
“My fur will take too long to dry,” Merit said.
Tevin tapped his fingers along the copper edge of the tub. He stood up, sifting through the different-colored glass bottles that sat on a ledge next to the tub. After a second, he picked up the purple bottle, took out the stopper, and sniffed. “Lily. Strong fragrance. That’s what we need.” He poured a little in the water and then turned off the spigot. “Step into the tub—you’re going to need to wash your hands and feet the most. Use a wet washcloth to wipe down your fur. It won’t be perfect, but it will do for now.”
Tevin started pulling feathers out of her fur.
Merit stood in front of him, not moving. “Are you going to leave?”
“As soon as I get these feathers out,” Tevin said. “Look, I understand you don’t want to strip down, but we don’t exactly have time left for modesty. At least get down to your chemise. I think that’s mostly intact. I’ll have Ellery take over as soon as they get here.”
She stripped out of her dress and tossed
it into the hamper. Maybe someone could use the material for rags. Tevin helped her into the tub. She dipped her washcloth and started wiping as he continued to pluck feathers, stopping only when Ellery arrived.
Ellery didn’t bat an eye at the scene, stepping up to help Tevin remove the feathers as quickly as possible. “Can’t say I’ve ever helped pluck a patient before.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever wanted to be plucked,” Merit grumbled.
Ellery laughed.
As soon as all of the feathers were gone, she was left to finish her quick wash alone. Merit moved swiftly, getting the worst of it off. She would take a proper bath later. Once she was done and dried as best she could, she wrapped herself in a robe and cleaned her teeth before stepping out into her room. Tevin was gone, leaving only Ellery to help her. Ellery handed her a fresh chemise. The one from the night before followed her dress into the hamper, and then they brought her a light blue belted day dress, the hem decorated in small embroidered flowers.
Merit heard the door open and shut a second before Kaiya peeked in. “Tevin said you might need some help.”
“Yes,” Merit said. “Can you brush while Ellery handles the dress?”
Kaiya nodded, grabbing a brush and jumping to swipe at the fur around her face and head.
Ellery did up the buttons and turned her in front of the mirror. They both stared at their reflections for a moment.
“You’ll do, I think,” Ellery said.
“Do you want a veil?” Kaiya asked.
Merit shook her head. “If they’re going to show up unannounced, they can deal with the full beast treatment.”
“Quite right,” Ellery said. “In my country, it’s considered acceptable to launch people who show up unannounced from a trebuchet. We all keep them by our doors as a reminder.”
“In Hane, we keep crossed swords in our entryways for the same reason,” Kaiya said. “Keeps people polite.”
“I think you’re both making that up.” But Merit couldn’t tell just by looking at them. They were both remarkably skilled at keeping a straight face. Something caught her eye and she started snickering.
“What?” Ellery asked, checking Merit’s appearance.
“You have a feather in your hair,” Merit said, before reaching up to pluck it out.
* * *
• • •
Her mother met her in the hall outside the library. “There you are.” She examined Merit quickly, clearly not liking what she saw. “I’m glad I waited for you. Merit, you can’t go in like this.” She pressed a vial of tincture into Merit’s hands.
“Mother—”
Lady Zarla shook her head. “No, Merit. No arguments. I’ve given you a lot of leeway. You disappeared from one ball, ducked out of dinner last night, and didn’t come home until who knows when, and you’ve let those people practically infest this house.” She crossed her arms. “I’m trying to be patient with you, but I must put my foot down now.”
Merit knew better than to argue with her mother when she got that look on her face, so she didn’t bother. Why waste her breath? She wouldn’t listen. Merit carefully unstoppered the bottle. After all, she’d had one of her episodes last night. It should be safe for now, shouldn’t it? She’d never had one so soon, anyway. But then the curse was changing in ways she didn’t understand . . .
She drank the tincture, closing her eyes until the awful feeling of shifting from the beast passed.
When she opened her eyes, her mother was looking at her critically. Lady Zarla turned her around, adjusting the dress, which hung on her awkwardly after the transition. After that, she tightened the belt around the waist and took off her own shawl and draped it over Merit’s shoulders. Her mother turned her back around, examining her work. She licked her thumb and wiped at Merit’s cheek. “You’ve got dirt—”
“Mother, I’m not five.”
Lady Zarla smoothed Merit’s hair. “I wish you were five. You were so sweet at that age. And quiet.” She paused, holding Merit’s face. “I do all of this for you, you know.”
“I know you think you do,” Merit said, gently removing her mother’s hands from her face. “I have to go, Mother. My guest is waiting.”
Lady Zarla looked like she wanted to say something, but changed her mind, shooing Merit into the library.
Merit shut the door gently, turning to see Latimer waiting for her. His back was to her so he could look out the window. The light flooded in and gilded him, making him look like a dream come to life.
She smiled. “Latimer.”
He turned, presenting her a fluid bow. “Lady Merit, you look lovely. I’m sorry to drop by so unexpectedly.”
Merit tried not to picture him flying through the air in Ellery’s trebuchet and was mostly successful. “My apologies for making you wait.”
“Now that we’ve both apologized, can we sit?” Latimer waited for her to settle herself on the love seat before taking the seat next to her.
“I don’t want to intrude on your time too much. You probably have a busy morning planned, and we’re still practically strangers.” He caught his lower lip in his teeth, looking charmingly unsure of himself. “When you left last night—you looked upset. I wanted to see if you were all right.”
“Oh.” Merit couldn’t help but feel touched. He’d stopped by just to check on her. “That’s sweet, thank you.”
“We don’t know each other well yet, but I do hope you realize you can talk to me if you want.” He laughed self-deprecatingly. “I won’t claim to be good at this sort of thing. I’m not the kind of man people confide in.” He took her hand in his. “But I’d like to try. For you.”
His hand was warm and comforting in hers. She realized she was comparing it with holding Tevin’s hand and stomped down hard on that line of thought. Latimer deserved her full attention. “Last night, it brought up some things. About my curse. When I was first cursed, that is.”
He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. He really was gorgeous, sitting there on her couch. Every inch the golden prince. Only, it was like looking at a painting. She could recognize that he was handsome in an abstract kind of way; it just didn’t mean anything to her. Why didn’t she care more that he was handsome?
“I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through,” Latimer said. “But you’re feeling better today?”
“Much.” She realized that while she might not care that Latimer was handsome, she was genuinely enjoying his company now. They could be friends, at least. That was something. Lots of people based relationships on friendship, didn’t they? She didn’t like the very real possibility that she would have to live in his kingdom and bid her beloved country home goodbye, but she liked the idea of him more than she did Freddie or Cedric. Though those two had the advantage of being local. Of course, Cedric was temporarily an ostrich.
“I couldn’t help but notice that you left with that DuMont fellow. You seem to be spending a lot of time together.”
Merit stilled. She didn’t like what he was implying, even if there was truth to it. He didn’t lay claim to her or her time—not yet. “He’s our guest.”
He nodded. “I don’t wish to speak ill of a guest, of course, but I will speak bluntly. You would do yourself a disservice if you married him.” His gaze was steady on hers. “It’s just the way things are, Merit. I’ve heard he’s rich, and I know he’s decent-looking, but he can’t ever offer you the things I can.”
Decent-looking? Latimer must really think Tevin is competition if he can’t even admit that he’s gorgeous.
“What can you offer me that Tevin can’t?” Merit asked the question knowing the answer, of course, but it wasn’t the information that mattered. It was how he presented it. You could learn a lot about a person by how they said things. What words they used, the tone, and how they held themselves. Tevin had taught her that.
Latimer laughed and
leaned an arm over the back of the settee. He reached up and touched a lock of her hair that had come loose from her braid. After examining it for a moment and letting it run through his fingers, he tucked it behind the curve of her ear. “My bloodline may not be local fae, but it is a royal one. Someday I will be king. You would continue in your current lifestyle with someone who would understand you—with someone who has been raised the same way and can anticipate your needs because of that.” His tone was gentle, like he truly regretted that he had to tell her such things. “He will never know what it’s like to be one of us, Merit.” He brushed his thumb across the back of her hand. “I’m not offering love. We don’t know each other well enough for that. But I think we get on well. I respect you. We could have a solid partnership.”
“Why now?” Merit wasn’t shocked by his practical approach. Her own parents had married for such a reason. “I have my curse to drive me, but what’s making you consider marriage?”
“I’m an only child. My parents worry. They don’t want me to put my duties off, such as they are.” His smile was apologetic. “It’s my understanding that you need to marry soon, correct?”
“I have to be married by my birthday, or the curse is permanent.”
Latimer regarded her with sympathy, and part of her bristled at the possibility that it might be pity, but another part . . . a rather large portion, to be honest, welcomed it. He was right—it was nice to have someone understand, and Latimer understood having to marry for duty. She wondered what it would be like to be married to him. Until now she’d mostly considered him in terms of his title, but what of Latimer himself? She thought back to their day at the godling’s house and felt a trickle of hope. They’d had fun, been easy in each other’s company. Marriage to him held a hint of possibility.