by K. M. Shea
Gabrielle self-consciously fidgeted as Raigne—a neighbor and a great friend of sweet-tempered Marta—gaped at her, the carriage, and the servants.
Gabrielle had forgone her dresses for the day—even though Angelique had made two beautiful gowns for her. Instead, she wore her leather jerkin and pants, but had—at Puss’s insistence—accentuated the outfit with a gold necklace that had a sapphire the size of a robin egg. She’d pulled her hair back in a braid, and selected sapphire earrings that matched the necklace. Her boots were no longer plain black, but had elaborate gold buckles, as did her sword belt.
Raigne dropped her wicker basket. “Gabi?”
“Ahem,” Gabrielle’s footman said—a rail-thin a man who had refused to take up a trade or leave Carabas and had sworn himself to her service for life. “You are addressing Lady Gabrielle, the Marquise of Carabas.”
Raigne stared.
Gabrielle supposed a well-groomed and richly dressed adventurer was a sight compared to how she looked when she left—a dirty, ash-smeared peasant girl. “Hello, Raigne,” Gabrielle said, clearing her throat. She offered the older girl a smile.
Raigne turned on her heels and went running for the family cottage. “Marta, Rupert, Gregor—hey-o! She’s back! Gabi is back!”
The mill door flew open. “What?” Rupert—dusted in flour—asked. Raigne was almost to the cottage and didn’t hear him, so he got no response.
Rupert turned to look at Gabrielle. “Gabi? Gregor, it’s Gabi!” Rupert said. He took a few staggering steps before he started sprinting.
Gregor zoomed out of the mill like a dog on a scent, passing Rupert to get to her. “Gabi!” he shouted.
Gabrielle lowered Puss to the ground to brace herself for a lecture. Instead, Gregor picked her up and whirled her around, crushing her in a bear-tight hug. “You little fool,” he said.
Rupert yanked her from his grasp and squeezed all the air out of her with the force of his hug. “Where have you been? What happened?” Rupert said, his eyes going from her jewels to the beautiful coach behind her.
“By the looks of it, I would say she married a lord,” Jana said, a red-faced baby on one hip. (Gregor and Jana’s second child evidently had the same lung capacity as Trudi.)
Marta tottered next to Jana, holding onto Trudi with one hand and supporting her round belly with the other.
Jana’s angry words were almost eclipsed by the bird-like cry of Gabrielle’s mother as she hurtled down the path. “Gabrielle!” her mother called, embracing her with pillowy arms.
Her father followed behind his daughters-in-law, his expression unreadable.
“Where did you go, you wild girl? I was so worried! I thought something happened to you,” Gabrielle’s mother cried.
“I’m sorry; I should have sent word. I thought someone would have brought back news by now,” Gabrielle said.
“News of what?” Gregor asked, picking up Trudi.
“Of my adventures—of our adventures,” Gabrielle said, glancing down at Puss. Gabrielle’s family followed her gaze and looked down at him.
“You actually took the cat with you as an inheritance?” Jana sneered.
“I beg your pardon. Do you mean to imply I’m not something worth inheriting? No wonder Gabrielle calls you churlish,” Puss said, shaking his head in revulsion.
Gabrielle laughed when her family stared slack-jawed at her friend. “Yes, Jana, I took him. He was the most valuable inheritance a person could ask for,” she said as her father joined the group.
“You aren’t married,” her father said, looking at her hand and her carriage.
Gabrielle bristled a little at his meaning, but she forced herself to smile. “No. I am the Marquise of Carabas. I defeated the ogre, and the land’s inhabitants swore loyalty to me. King Henrik has already approved my claim.”
“You’re a member of nobility?” Jana said, the shock as plain on her face as it was in her voice.
Behind her, Raigne scurried off, running farther into the tiny village.
“I am,” Gabrielle said.
Her family was silent.
“It’s not quite as glorious as it sounds. Carabas needs a lot of renovating, and there are still monsters to chase from it, but Prince Rune promised his help, and Prince Nickolas said he would lend me troops, if needed.”
“You’ve spoken with some of the princes?” Marta said, her eyes wide.
“Yes, I traveled with Prince Steffen and King Henrik for a time. Puss made the arrangements,” Gabrielle said, glancing down at her cat.
“One must always take care to travel with those of good reputation,” Puss said when her family also looked to him.
“Did that cat always talk?” Gregor asked.
“No, certainly not,” Rupert said.
“It’s a very long story,” Gabrielle said.
“And we would like to hear every bit of it,” her mother said. “Come, we’ll have tea in the garden. My baby is back—I’m so happy!” she said, shedding a few more tears.
While sitting in Marta’s overgrown garden—seated on a chair her father had dragged outside for her—Gabrielle told her story.
Ilz villagers dropped by—after being shooed away from the carriage by the overprotective footman—on the pretense of visiting, and they listened to Gabriel’s tale. Bastian—the kind farmer-boy who had saved Gabrielle from the brutish Axel—was among the first to arrive. He sat in the garden with her family, but when the tinsmith and ropemaker joined them, they stood outside the already overfilled garden. Jochim the terrible flirt was there, arm in arm with the baker’s youngest sister. Hurst, the cobbler, even dropped by with both of his children. Soon the entire village was sitting in the backyard, listening to Gabrielle give a shortened version of her adventures.
They gasped when they learned that Puss could talk; they cheered when she recounted how she saved the prince. The morning turned into the afternoon, and her voice was dry and scratchy by the time Gabrielle explained how she had foiled the ogre.
The villagers exchanged looks and shook their heads. “Only Gabrielle,” they said.
“She’s the only villager of Ilz odd enough to try it.”
“Why leave Ilz? It is home and haven.”
Most of the villagers cleared off, smiling fondly and shaking their heads in wonder.
A few stragglers remained, but they gathered to the side, giving Gabrielle a few moments with her family.
“Please, tell me, dear. Are you happy?” her mother asked.
“Exceedingly so,” Gabrielle smiled. “Every day brings a new adventure. I haven’t even the faintest notion what I will do as a marquise, but Puss and I will manage.”
“Good. I’m so glad for you,” her mother said, kissing her forehead.
“You and father decided not to leave for Loire?” Gabrielle asked.
“No,” her mother said.
“Your mother was sick with worry when you left, and they lost their heart to leave,” Jana said, her voice colored with disapproval.
“Jana,” Gregor said, shaking his head.
“I see. I’m sorry,” Gabrielle said. She waited a moment to say, “I would like to invite you all to stay with me in Carabas—if the idea pleases you. I will be busy with running my march, and the lands are not very prosperous yet, but with time it will recover. Prince Falk intends to make an agricultural inspection to help me choose what crops to plant. But that doesn’t matter—none of you need to work anymore, if you don’t want to.”
Gabrielle’s father shook his head. “We will remain in Ilz.”
“That is very kind of you, though, dear,” her mother said.
“Don’t you even want to think about it? Rupert, Gregor?” Gabrielle asked.
“No, but thank you, Gabi,” Rupert said.
“We will stay, as well,” Gregor gruffly said, even though Jana look conflicted. “Ilz is our home.”
“I understand,” Gabrielle said, and for once, she did. After witnessing the courage of the northern vil
lages, she understood that her parents and siblings were devoted to Ilz. They loved it the way she craved excitement and adventure. They were a part of the land. “But I do expect you to visit.”
“Of course!” her mother laughed.
“And we will write,” Marta piped in. “Now that we have an address for you, we will flood you with letters and notes.”
“I would enjoy that,” Gabrielle said.
“You could hire a courier whose sole job would be to deliver your letters,” Puss suggested.
Gregor’s forehead wrinkled as he studied Puss—almost as if the fact that he could hear a cat talking worried him. Rupert, on the other hand, laughed. “The Master Cat has a grand idea—if you can afford it, Gabi.”
“What kind of a penniless land do you think I secured for her?” Puss scoffed. “Carabas might be half-rotted, but the ogre was filthy rich.”
Gabrielle cut off any further boasts from the cat by patting his head. “Money will be no issue. In fact, if you have need of anything…”
“No, thank you,” her father said.
“We are quite well,” her mother said, a smile blooming on her rosy face.
“Good,” Gabrielle said.
“Will you stay for dinner?” her father asked.
“If it’s not too much trouble, we’d love to. My men and I will spend the night in Wied—Puss and I have a debt to settle with an innkeeper there. But I wish to spend the rest of the day with you all,” Gabrielle said.
Her father nodded.
“All of my children together for a meal for the first time in months! I should get started now,” her mother said, fussing with her apron as she made a beeline for the door.
“I’ll help you,” Marta said as the baby started crying.
“I’ll take Trudi,” Gregor said, reaching for the child as Jana took the baby.
“I won’t be long,” Jana said, darting inside with the child.
“I’ll check on the mill. We left the mules harnessed and alone,” Rupert said, standing and dusting off his clothes.
“Do you need help?” Gabrielle asked.
“No, I will manage,” Rupert said, offering her a smile. He strolled for the mill, whistling a song.
“Gabrielle,” her father said.
“Yes?” Gabrielle asked, glancing at Gregor. He seemed to sense a conversation he didn’t want to be part of, for he picked up his daughter and ambled away. The action worried her somewhat. What was her father going to say to her?
He was silent for several long moments. “I am proud of you.”
Gabrielle blinked. “What?”
“You have helped many and asked for little in return. Your mother and I were wrong to try to harness you for marriage. You are different from us. Differences are neither bad nor good but something to realize and embrace. You love adventuring, so I give you my blessing. You will make a fine marquise.”
“Even if I never marry?” Gabrielle asked timidly.
“Even if you never marry.”
Gabrielle leaped from her chair and threw her arms around her father, her eyes burning with tears. “Thank you, Daddy,” she said.
Her father patted her on the back three times before saying, “I should help Rupert,” and making an awkward exit.
As he walked for the mill, Gabrielle saw him wipe his eyes. “That went better than I expected,” she said. “My family has changed.”
“Perhaps a little,” Puss said after licking one of his stark white paws. “But you have changed more. You have grown, and you see things from a more mature perspective.”
Gabrielle chuckled. “Hush, Puss. Soon you will have me thinking it is a sad thing to leave this place.”
“So you are leaving, then,” Bastian, the lanky farmer boy, said as he leaned against the garden fence. “And you don’t intend to return?”
“Oh, I’ll be back,” Gabrielle said, offering the young man a smile. “But…yes. I have Carabas to mind.”
Bastian nodded, his easy manners lulling Gabrielle into a relaxed state. “I was one of your marriage offers, you know,” he said.
“What?”
“Yes. Rupert and Gregor always had good things to say about you, and they complained that men didn’t value you for anything but your fine looks. I know we didn’t interact much, but I admired your courage and fire.”
Gabrielle wanted to sink into the ground. She never had even the slightest idea Bastian was interested in her. He was one of the nicest men in the village. If she had known…would she have agreed to set out with Puss?
“I’m not telling you this to embarrass you; I just wanted to let you know that I’m happy for you. I worried about you—your family worried about you. Not when you were gone, but when you were here. You were unhappy, and they didn’t understand why. Now, I get it. You were meant for other things.”
Gabrielle nodded and awkwardly clasped her hands together. “Like fighting ogres.”
“And saving princes, and running Carabas,” Bastian said. “You always have been a strong girl, Gabi. But now I can see just how great your strength is. Good luck, my lady.”
“To you as well,” Gabrielle said. The young farmer bowed a little and turned to leave. On an impulse, she called out, “And Bastian?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for your offer of marriage. If I had known…things might have turned out differently.”
“In that case, I’m glad you didn’t know,” Bastian smiled widely. “I love Ilz, and you love Arcainia. We don’t rightly match, Gabi.”
“Still, the girl you do marry will be lucky indeed.”
“Thank you.” Bastian laughed and raised his hand in acknowledgement before he went on his way.
“That was an awkward conversation. I believe it was the first time in my entire life I wished I was a normal cat so I would not be aware of what was happening,” Puss said.
Gabrielle shook her head. “I cannot believe how blind I was to everything,” she said.
“As I mentioned before, you grew,” Puss said, his ears at odd angles.
“What is it?”
“It is just…all your swains,” Puss said, shaking his head.
“You are surprised men want me?”
“Yes. I had hopes to see you marry a high-ranking magic user, or a mage at least. But I am swiftly learning if I want my plans to succeed, I had better produce a magic user soon, lest another chap tries to sweep you off your feet.”
“Why would I want to marry a magic user?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“I didn’t realize my marriage was going to be a part of our adventures.”
“It is. When it comes down to it, you had best let me make the negotiations.”
“Only if you’ll allow a portrait to be painted of you and the little orange cat that ate the ogre.”
“You shut your blasphemous mouth.”
“Not so eager now, are we?”
“Harpy!”
“Aw, Puss, I love you, too!”
“Unhand me!”
Chapter 14
Love
“Puss, I’m hungry. I want to eat. Can we go to The Turtle & Doves now?” Gabrielle complained, plucking a club from a goblin. She swiveled around and swung it into the creature’s gut.
“No. We haven’t cleared out all the goblins yet,” Puss said, landing on a goblin and clawing him before charming the creature to sleep.
“We destroyed the outpost last week, and we must have already cleared out fifteen goblins today. Isn’t that enough? We’re so close!”
“It isn’t even noon. Lunch is meant to be consumed at a later hour,” Puss said, sharpening his claws on a tree.
“But I’m starving, and the servants won’t expect us back until evening—ah!” Gabrielle said, sprinting to her neighing horse so she could take down the goblin grasping at its reins. “There, that’s the last one. Anyway, this is all because you don’t want to see the orange cat, isn’t it?” Gabrielle asked.
Although Gabrie
lle had tried to make the orange cat that had eaten the ogre into a pet, the little feline made it clear she considered Michi and Dano her owners. Between all the yarn-balls and the dozens of grandchildren willing to share their food with the legendary stray, she couldn’t blame the animal. Still, even though the little cat had chosen a different home, she was still very much enamored with Puss—a fact that made him most unwilling to visit Jagst.
“I must disagree with you. I don’t think that is the last one,” Puss said, peering into the forest.
“No. It was the last one; I know it. I’m going to eat, with or without you,” Gabrielle said, turning to mount her horse.
A goblin screamed and popped out from under a shrub, brandishing a black dagger.
“Gabrielle!” Puss shouted.
The goblin lunged for her, his dagger aimed at her open back.
Before the creature could reach Gabrielle, it dropped in a heap, taken out by an arrow.
“By land and sea—if you’re going to insist on hunting goblins yourself, ask Nick for soldiers!” Steffen shouted as he rode into the clearing, wielding a crossbow and riding a prancing horse.
“Steffen?” Gabrielle gaped. She gulped and scrambled onto her horse—a calm but long-legged, black bay. “Come on, Puss. You’re right. We should forget The Turtle & Doves and return to Carabas.”
“Good call,” Puss said, springing onto a stump so he could leap for Gabrielle’s lap. He sank his claws into the saddle and huddled low while she turned her horse around.
“Gabrielle, wait! Give me a chance to speak,” Steffen shouted, urging his horse after hers.
“I have nothing to say to you, unless you’re here to deliver the seeds for the winter crops Prince Falk and I agreed on,” Gabrielle said, heeling her horse. The clever prince had advised her to grow winter wheat, which needed to be planted before the end of fall.
They weren’t far into the woods, so within a few minutes they cleared it, entering the rolling hills of farmland that surrounding Carabas.
It had been three, almost four, weeks since Gabrielle returned to her new lands. As fall was starting to color the leaves and bring cooler air, the lands were already showing signs of promise. The sky was no longer a constant canvas of clouds, and the sun shone brightly overhead. Some of the Carabas refugees had already returned and were working valiantly on rebuilding the town surrounding the castle.