Frances Folklores.
Chapter Six
The wine was disappearing at an amazing rate as Ellena paced about the room. Lunch had been brought just moments before and Ellena had instantly reached for the pitcher. The food was completely forgotten as she tried to come to some logical conclusion regard the books mysterious appearance. Her hands seem to have a mind of their own as they endlessly rung themselves over and over again.
She was watching the book, still quietly lying where she had found it. The alcohol was helping as it coursed through her veins and sent her on an adrenaline rush. She snatched the red book up, but froze, not really sure what to expect.
Nothing happened and she suddenly felt very foolish for imagining that anything would. She at first believed that perhaps it was a different copy of the same book, but as she inspected it Ellena realized that it was identical. Its top right corner was torn in the exact same place along with a mysterious brown dot that was present on the first page. Not to mention it had been handwritten and even the stroke of the letters looked the same.
“Okay,” she whispered. “So let’s pretend that this is the same book. What does that mean?” She clutched it tighter and took another drink of her wine. “That man did something. He had to!”
She wasn’t sure how he had done it, but Ellena knew he was behind this. Maybe he was trying to toy with her? She flipped the page and began to read.
Le Rouge Prince was the title and it began like most fairy tales.
Once upon time there once was a kind prince who fell madly in love with a beautiful young woman from a nearby village. The kind lord was known not only for his generous nature, but also for the red hunting cape he wore. The prince deeply adored the young woman, offering her not only his heart, but anything that she desired. Among one gift was a brilliant red riding hood, one that matched his own. But sadly the young lady fell for another, a prince who was not kind, but much wealthier and more handsome. She left to elope, leaving the kind prince and the red hood behind.
Ellena quickly shut the book. She looked at the red hood flung across her bed as a thought crossed her mind. She impatiently reopened the book only to find that the rest of the pages were blank. Now, she was positive that this was a different book. The one in Lord Wolfe’s library had been full from cover to cover. She couldn’t help but laugh at her own silliness, but now a whole new nagging question gnawed away at her. Was Lord Wolfe a descendant of the prince in the story? She had to know what became of him. It was the writer in her. A good writer never left a story unfinished.
While the details were still fresh in her mind, Ellena set to scribbling them down in her notebook, expressing her speculations not only about Lord Wolfe, but also Madame Danielle. How did she have the other red hood? Was she somehow a descendant of the prince or perhaps even the girl from the story? There was one person who could possibly know.
The little bell above the bakery door rang again as Ellena walked inside. An elderly couple, completely enraptured with each other, sat in the far corner feeding each other glazed pastries and she couldn’t help but adore the loving scene.
“Back so soon?” Ansel was behind the counter, gently placing sweet cakes into the glass display case.
“I just can’t stay away,” Ellena smiled. “Are you busy?”
“Not terribly so. Why?”
“I just wanted to ask you a few more questions when you have a moment.”
“Of course, I just need to finish this up.”
She took a seat by the window, looking out into the alley. More people were out and about on the streets today since the storm had finally passed. It wasn’t too long before Ansel joined her, bringing along with him two cups of coffee.
“Un moment,” he said, scurrying off again. This time he returned with a small pitcher of cream and cubed sugar. “I know you that you prefer to ruin good luxuries.”
“Merci,” she laughed.
“I take mine black,” he said as she reached for the sugar. “Now tell me. What did you want to ask me about?”
Ellena pulled out her notebook. “That story your grandmother told you, did you happen to remember anything else?”
He quizzical looked at her. “May I ask why?”
“I found something that may support her version, but it held very little information. Can you remember any more details? Perhaps the man’s name?”
“I’m afraid I told you everything I know. The only thing I can think of that I didn’t you tell you before was he lived not far from the village, out to the north I believe, in the forest.”
“You wouldn’t have been told what he looked like?”
“Looked like? All I know is that he was supposed to have been strikingly handsome.”
A customer entered and Ansel excused himself as he stood. Before he walked away, Ansel stopped. “There is one other thing my great grandmother did mention. It was something about sorcery.”
“Sorcery?” Ellena asked.
“It’s not that surprising. Most fairy tales have magic in them, no?”
“What role did magic play?” Ellena leaned forward, barely able to withstand the anticipation.
“I’m not sure, but I have a feeling that you’re going to find out,” he said smiling.
Night was creeping closer. Ellena had sat, deep in thought, at Ansel’s bakery as she blankly stared into her fourth cup of coffee. She couldn’t help but think of Gregor, Monsieur Wolfe, and the great stone mansion. She knew of only one other place where she could possibly get to the bottom of this mysterious tale. Tomorrow Ellena would venture back into the northern forest.
Chapter Seven
There it was, the forest edge. Ellena had come prepared this time with a backpack full of supplies and her cellphone. She stuffed the contraption into the pocket of her red coat and crossed into the woodland.
The poor girl had barely slept a wink the night before as her excitement became too much to contain and as a result she had stayed up until nearly dawn writing. When daylight finally appeared, she packed her bag and left before even eating.
The forest was not nearly as foreboding has her last visit. The shadows dissolved as the sun rose and different animals scurried among the snow, some squirrels, some foxes as the birds sang in the treetops. A red cardinal swooped down and quietly landed on the droopy remains of what Ellena could only guess had once been some sort of sticker bush.
“I’m beginning to suspect that you’re following me,” she said with a hint of playfulness. She wasn’t sure if it was the same cardinal as before, but it was still fun to pretend.
Ellena enjoyed the little bird’s company as she pressed onward. She talked about her travels, her writings, her favorite colors and books. The cardinal seemed to be listening as it fluttered from branch to stone to root, following wherever she went. A few times it even chirped as if answering her questions.
She pulled her cellphone from her pocket to check the time. Two hours had passed and still no sign of Lord Wolfe or his home. Ellena was beginning to grow nervous. It had not taken this long to return yesterday and hunger pains were hitting her fast.
Why had she not stopped to have breakfast before leaving, Ellena berated herself. Whenever she became enthralled in something, she could do little else. It was the same with her books. Once she had not eaten for two days because she was so enraptured in a story that she was writing.
Without warning, her cellphone released a droll noise, flashing blue before completely going black. It had never done that before and Ellena set to work pressing the buttons, trying to turn it on and off. Finally resorting to the last possible action she could take, Ellena began to blatantly hit the broken device.
“This is ridiculous!” she shouted, losing her grip on the slippery gadget and causing it to fall from her hands. Ellena leapt for it, tumbling into the wet snow along with her phone. A river of profanities flew from her mouth as she scrambled to her feet.
“Still as elegant as ever, I see.”
El
lena knew that voice. It may have been in a mocking and insulting tone, but Ellena was glad to hear it.
“Lord Wolfe,” she greeted.
He found her phone and picked it up, turning it over in his hand. “What is this?” He seemed quite mesmerized.
“What do you mean? It’s a cellphone. Haven’t you even seen one before?”
Ellena was dusting herself off when he suddenly raced away.
“Hold on!” Ellena screamed, trying to keep up with him. Of course this is how he would greet her. Stealing her phone and leaving her to die in the woods!
She stopped to catch her breath as she saw Lord Wolfe sweep through his gate and bound toward his mansion. A familiar face was happily waiting for her at the door when Ellena finally followed, at a much slower and exhausted pace.
“Monsieur Gregor,” she fondly said. “How have you been? Are you surprised to see me back so soon?”
“It is always a delight to see you, mademoiselle.”
He helped Ellena inside, taking her bag and coat. “Whatever happened to your red cape?” he asked.
“It’s in my bag.”
“I’ve prepared your room.”
“My room? Since when did it become my room?”
“Since Lord Wolfe deemed it so.”
She was surprised and frankly bewildered at such a generous gesture coming from that man. Before she could ask dear Gregor about it, he abruptly changed the subject.
“Are you hungry?”
Her stomach did the answering as it released a loud growl. He shooed her off to unpack her belongings as he set out for the kitchen. She found her room again. It was so strange, referring to it in such a way and what was even stranger was Lord Wolfe giving it to her.
The room looked almost the same. A few things were there that had not been present before, a pair of white slippers and a plush robe, some very bright red tulips in a vase by the bed. Ellena plopped her bag in a chair by the fireplace and began unpacking, carefully laying her extra clothes, red cape, and writing supplies on the bed. Lastly was the red book. She set that on the table by her bed.
Opening the closet to put her clothes away, she was already surprised to see it full of women’s apparel— dresses, blouses, gloves, and hats. Had these always been there? Perhaps that is where Gregor had gotten her dress from last time? She wasn’t quite sure since she had never opened the closet or drawers until now. Of course, they had to have already been there. She snickered at the thought of Lord Wolfe buying them for her.
The old butler was already setting a bowl of soup down as Ellena arrived at the dining table. Only one seat, her seat, had been prepared. She sat down and picked up her napkin as Gregor amusingly watched her devour the meal. It was a thick potato soup with cloves and chives, accompanied with warm breads and a delicious cider.
“Did you approve of the room?” Gregor asked and Ellena nodded. “What of the clothes?”
“Those are for me?”
“Of course.”
Not that she wasn’t grateful, but one thought kept her from enjoying the kind gesture. “Were those? I mean did Madame—?”
“Those did not belong to her,” he whispered.
She set to work finishing off her soup, idling chatting with Gregor. Lord Wolfe was still pleasantly absent. “May I ask where is my ever so gracious host?” she asked ripping off a piece of bread and dunking it into her dish.
“He’s in his study, fiddling with something.”
“Fiddling?” Ellena dropped her spoon. “What do you mean?”
“He’s taking it apart and—”
Gregor couldn’t even finish his explanation before Ellena leapt from her chair and dashed away. Her feet pounded against the wooden floor as she threw open Lord Wolfe’s study door. There was her cellphone or, at least, the remains of the pitiable thing. Monsieur Wolfe was sitting at the oak desk in the corner with some kind of antique tool in his hand.
“What are you doing?” she screamed, marching over and trying to collect the gears and grinds scattered everywhere.
“It’s such a fascinating contrivance. I wanted to see how it works,” was his calm reply. He seemed very unmoved by her enraged outburst.
“Well!” Ellena cried. “Can you put it back together?”
“Of course I can,” he answered, picking up the detached screen and looking at it with a strange expression. He would have almost looked cute if he hadn’t just brutally massacred her phone.
“You have no idea how to fix it! How could you do this without my permission?”
“Your permission?” he snarled. “I do not need your permission for anything.”
“Of course not! What was I thinking?” she sarcastically replied trying to pick up the pieces that were dropping to the ground. “You of all people would never need consent to horribly destroy someone else’s things. No wonder you live alone with only a butler. No one else could stand you!”
She marched out with the pieces in her hand. Gregor had just appeared by the door as she passed.
“Is anything wrong?” he asked.
“He makes me regret ever coming back here,” she hotly answered.
“No one asked you to return.” Ellena heard Monsieur Wolfe arrogantly say from around the corner. “So, why did you?”
“I have my reasons,” she shot back. “And it’s not because of you!”
The cold corpse of her phone lay on the table beside her. After returning to her room Ellena had set to work trying to repair it, but failed miserably. Now all that was left to show were sad broken remains of a once very expensive piece of technology.
“Is he insane? What does he mean he’s never seen one before?”
She ripped her boots off and flung them, one landing in the far left corner and the other hitting the window before falling to the ground.
“That’s it!” Ellena stomped. “I’m breaking into his room tonight and shredding all of his precious clothing.”
She was still ranting and raving when Gregor knocked.
“Enterer!” Ellena said and the old man quietly entered.
“I brought you something to drink.”
Ellena sat down in the plush velvet seat in front of the fireplace. “Why is he like that?”
Gregor could only chuckle. “I apologize on his behalf. He’s always been one that liked to tinker with things. When he was a boy he used to take all the clocks and levers apart.”
“You should not be the one apologizing, Monsieur.” Ellena remarked, taking the cup of tea that Gregor offered. “You have done nothing but treat me well since the day I came here. Actually, do you have a moment for me to ask you something?”
“Of course.”
Ellena asked him to sit down and join her which he did with some reluctance. He was probably not accustomed to being treated in such a gracious way. Ellena retrieved her pen and paper.
“I’m doing a little research and just wanted to ask you some questions. Didn’t you say that Lord Wolfe comes from a long line of royalty?”
“Oui.”
“Did he happen to inherit that red cloak?”
“Why would you ask?”
Ellena showed him the red book. “There’s a story about a prince with red cloak in here. I was hoping that he was somehow related to Monsieur Wolfe. I want to know what happened since the story just abruptly ends.”
“It is possible,” he replied. “But I’m not sure. Perhaps you should ask my lord.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
The butler stood and bowed. “I will be off. Please enjoy your drink.”
He began to shuffle towards the door when Ellena stopped him. “Gregor, one more question? Why all of these odd pictures?”
“Of the servants?”
“I mean it is a little strange. Does he not have any family?” she gently asked.
“It’s very complicated,” Gregor slowly answered.
“Ah, I understand. I appreciate the tea.”
Ellena could certainly relate to
him in that manner. Her own childhood had not been a pleasant one, but she didn’t want to think about it. Right now, she had to prepare herself. If she was going to get any answers from Lord Wolfe about what she wanted to know there would be only one way of doing it.
Even Ellena had to admit how lovely she looked. It had not been easy trying to doll herself up to Lord Wolfe’s standard of beauty, but she believed that she had gotten somewhat close. Light makeup graced her features with a sprinkle of pink blush and her blonde hair was pulled to the side in a lose bun, gently flowing down her neck and back.
The dress she picked was a color that suited her well, a brilliant sea foam color with a scooping neck line. It fell off of her shoulders, displaying her pale skin. The bodice was tight, very tight, showing off her curves nicely.
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” she mumbled suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Besides the fact that she had never been one to dress in such a seductive manner, she knew Lord Wolfe would nitpick at her far from flawless skin. She had scars and small freckles, just like any normal girl would have, but normal didn’t seem to ever sway the prideful man. The darkness would hide them, she reasoned. They would be eating by the soft glow of candlelight. Slipping on her white slippers, she gathered her courage and headed out to find her prey.
He was no longer in his study she quickly discovered, or the gardens. Perhaps he was in his bedroom waiting for Gregor to call them for dinner? Or was he possibly out with his bow? She was aimlessly wandering when a sweet melody floated down the hall. She followed it, coming across the same music room she had during her last visit, only now it was not empty.
Lord Wolfe sat at the piano, his eyes closed as she gently touched the keys. It was a sad tune, one that Ellena had never heard before, but was still painfully beautiful. She watched him play, surprised by how enraptured he seemed as he let the music pulse through him. He looked handsome in his blue shirt tucked neatly under his black hunting coat.
He smirked. His eyes were still closed, but Ellena knew he was aware of her presence. “Are you enjoying my performance?”
Red Wolfe Page 6