“What’s that at my feet?” Ellena asked when she noticed a small lump under the blanket.
“It’s a warming pan,” Louisa answered. “Has it gone cold?”
Ellena shook her head as Louisa set the tray into her lap. “I just didn’t know that people still used them.”
It didn’t surprise her. She had realized some time ago that the mansion didn’t have any electricity. What she did want to know was why. Why did he not have any of the basic necessities of the modern age? Was he so far lost in his own delusion world that he even insisted on living in such a primitive state? He didn’t seem crazy. In fact, from the time she had gotten to know him, he seemed rather the opposite. The smell of melting butter reached her nose and she thought no more of it.
“We are glad to see you are feeling much better. You gave us quite a fright with that fever, but it seems to have gone down considerably. It didn’t help that you were already ill when all this occurred.” Louisa touched her forehead and nodded in approval. “But we still need the medicines that Monsieur Wolfe went to fetch.”
Ellena’s mouth was full of porridge as she tried to speak. “When will he be back?”
“Any time now,” Gregor answered.
After eating, Ellena so wanted to get up and escape the confines of her room, but Louisa would have not of it. She ordered the younger woman back to the bed and Ellena reluctantly obeyed.
“Here are some books,” Gregor gently laid them down on the table by her bed. “So that you are not too terribly bored.”
She thanked him and both left the room. Once the pounding footsteps and ringing voices died away a curious sound reached her ears, a sound that she had never heard in all her days on the great estate.
The click of a clock.
It was ticking faintly from somewhere of in the distance. It wasn’t in her room and for a moment she considered getting up to find it, but she knew Louisa would have her head if she did and so.
Strangely, it was comforting. It was a welcoming, familiar sound that filled the air, reminding her that life was present within the stone walls, that she was still alive. How appreciative you become of even the most meniscal things when you have had such a close brush with death, she thought. It was as if clock was speaking to her, just to let her know that everything was well, that she still had time. The sobering thought penetrated her soul and tears sprung to her eyes. A few fell, but she wiped them away and then laughed.
It was all thanks to John. He had given her the gift of time. An unbearable yearning to see him over took her. The same kind of feeling that she felt the moment she finished a book and held the manuscript in her hands or that sleepless excitement she felt the day before Christmas as colored lights shone along streets and shops, giving everything an ethereal feel, expect this emotion was different somehow. It was achier, more demanding. It couldn’t be what she thought it was. The young woman had, of course, experienced crushes in her life, emotions such as puppy love, but they had never been as consuming and powerful as this. She couldn’t fathom the possibility as her heart pounded with fear.
Could she have fallen in love?
Reading offered her no escape. In the past, Ellena had used them as refuges, as sanctuaries to flee from the chaos in her own life, but, for the first time that she could remember, they had failed. Her eyes glazed over the words as she vaguely stared at the empty words and muddled letters. Her brain had dispensed very little energy for actually focusing on her book since she had opened the cover hours ago.
This is pointless she angrily thought, slamming the book shut and lying back to stare at the top of her canopy bed.
This was not supposed to be part of the story. She was not supposed to fall for him, but even as she told herself those words, she knew the truth. Stories often changed, becoming something far from their original intent. Ellena knew all too well how stories, even her own, seemed to write themselves.
Roma and Rimi were suddenly at the door, scratching, pawing, and impatiently moaning. She could see their giant, gray paws pace and her heart beat faster.
Lord Wolfe had returned.
She clutched the end of her blanket as the door swung open. Four gangly legs leap across the room and onto her bed, but Louisa angrily shooed them away. Ellena was surprisingly disappointed to see that John was not with her.
“Finally got your medicine,” she said, handing Ellena the brown paste slathered in a cup. “You’ll need to eat all of it.”
The retched sticky stuff did little to entice her and Ellena quickly turned away from the horrid stench. “I’m feeling much better, really,” she said trying to hold back a fit of coughs.
“See, look. You’re still sick.”
Ellena couldn’t bear the thought of telling the kind woman that it was no the illness making her cough.
“And to think,” Louisa continued. “Monsieur Wolfe went to such great lengths to get it for you.”
Ellena knew what she was up to, and she knew that Louisa knew that she knew.
What a sly one.
Ellena extended her arm and Louisa proudly dropped the cup into her hand.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like for them to stay,” she said as Louisa tried to push the dogs into the hall. The older woman nodded and then left. Roma and Rimi were quick to make themselves comfortable as they returned to Ellena’s side. Once the door was closed, Ellena set to work.
“Look, a treat just for you,” Ellena cooed as she inched the cup closer to their curious snouts, but one whiff and the pups rolled over. “Some help you are.”
Gulping the first bite down was harder than she thought. It was nasty stuff that made her stomach churn, but at the same time, her insides squirmed with pleasure.
He had gone to get it for her. He could have sent anyone else, but didn’t and as much as she hated to admit it, the selfish act had touched her heart. Before even realizing it, the brown paste was gone and the cup was cast aside.
The clock was still ticking a she lay, gently running her fingers through her companion’s thick, gray fur. A few minutes passed by before a knock sounded, jerking Ellena and the dogs from their quiet rest.
John appeared in the doorway and Ellena quickly sat up as his appearance somewhat stunned her. His dark black hair had turned a light brown, just as she had suspected before only now it was definitely evident. Dark eyes had replaced his once icy blue ones and even the shape of his face had changed to a more masculine, stronger jaw. It was not an unpleasant sight. The man actually looked more human. She just couldn’t understand how he changed in such a way.
“How are you feeling?” he asked with anxious eyes. They were fiercely moving along her body and Ellena tried to avoid his gaze. It made her writhe in the most delicious way. What a mess she must have looked with her tired eyes and wild hair!
“I’m pretty sure I’ll make it thanks to you,” she half heartily laughed, but both knew how true it was. “Thank you,” she said, her tone turning serious. “Gregor told me what you did. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you and I really am feeling much better.”
“I am glad,” he sighed, coming to sit in a chair by her bed.
It’s amazing how three little words could send someone into such an elated state. Both could barely stop smiling.
“What happened to the wolf?” she finally inquired.
“It escaped into the forest, but not for long. Tomorrow I head out with my bow.”
“Please don’t,” Ellena begged. She couldn’t explain it, but she couldn’t bear the thought of the majestic creature slaughtered. Even if it had attacked them, something was telling her it was wrong.
“You wish for it to remain alive?” he bellowed in disbelief.
She nodded and he reluctantly relented, giving his word that he would not kill the beast unless it was absolutely necessary and Ellena prayed it wouldn’t be.
“What of a game of chess?”
“Only if you tell me more of the story while we play.”
“I suppose
that is a fair deal,” he grinned.
The chess board was brought from John’s study and placed atop the bed. John slowly slid his chair closer and Ellena couldn’t help but notice how his white cotton shirt moved across his body in the most interesting fashion. The way the faint color of his skin was barely visible through the tightly woven fabric had her mesmerized.
“Black or white?”
“Yes?” she scrambled to reply. Had he noticed it? She could barely admit it, the horrifying fact making her flush. It was hard to confess, even to herself.
She had been ogling him.
“You prefer to be white, no?” He picked up the knights and set them on the board.
“Oh yes,” she quickly answered in the way that earned her a quizzical look from her partner.
“Is something wrong?”
“Of course not.” She couldn’t tell if his probing eyes had noticed, or if he was just trying to spare her the embarrassment of being caught in such a shameful spectacle by pretending like he hadn’t seen her acting like a school girl fanning over some teenage crush.
Their game began in intense silence, which Ellena knew was for different reasons. He was obviously deep within thought, planning his attack to finally beat her, but Ellena on the other hand, was too busy studying him studying the board to focus on her own game.
However, she did notice the dull, throbbing ache residing in her left shoulder. The rest of her body had stopped aching some time ago, but that one spot refused to offer her any rest. She softly touched the place before trying to work it out with a few good stretches, but nothing seemed to work. It wasn’t long before even John was distracted by her.
“Is that shoulder bothering you?”
“It just won’t seem to stop hurting,” she grimaced.
John released what sounded like the mixture of an awkward cough and a breath as Ellena slid the white fabric of her dress down her shoulder. A black crescent moon was imprinted into the skin, a moon that looked very similar to….
That’s when she remembered it. The horse had stomped her shoulder right after they had plummeted into the lake. It was a nasty bruise. Even worst the one she had received from her fall because this one was not only swollen, but also with bright sprinkles of red blotches from where her skin vessels had burst. It was also right at a place that she constantly needed to move to use her arm. The young girl was just so thankful to be alive, that she couldn’t bring herself to complain. When Ellena looked up, she was alone.
“John?”
His tea was still sitting on the table by his chair. Before she could even decide what to do next, he had already returned.
He didn’t say anything as he set down a medicine bowl and began mixing some very odd ingredients. First was vinegar and Ellena crinkled her nose as the pungent odor. Next was almond extract. She was sure of it. She watched in silence as he added a few herbs. Some she recognized, others she did not. One was Henbane, a green plant used for many different creams and ointments. The next ingredient was one she did not know.
“Is that Saffron?” she asked.
“Daftodi, but I’m impressed. Do you know herbs?”
“Just a few,” she answered. “Just from the little bit of research I’ve done for some of my books.”
He picked up a stone grinder and began mixing and pounding. “We were out of Monkshood, but this should still do the trick,” he said before starting toward her with the green, chunky, goo. “Rub this salve into your skin. It will help with the pain.”
She learned not to question the strange concoctions and she dipped her fingers into the bowl, gently massaging it into her shoulder. The smell was much more bearable now, no doubt due to the almond extract, and it tingled as she applied it to her skin.
“Your color is finally turning to normal,” John suddenly said. “You were so deathly pale the last few days. I was ….. very concerned.”
Ellena fiddled with her white knight still on the board.
“It’s your turn,” she whispered, trying to watch him from the corner of her eye. He had changed so much since their first encounter that it was still almost too outstanding to believe. “I like this side of you much better.” The words slipped from her mouth before she could stop them. “What I—”
“Do you mean that?” he softly asked. “You prefer me this way?”
“I do,” she honestly answered. “Why would you think I wouldn’t?”
He did not reply right away and Ellena patiently waited. He picked up a black pawn and returned to his seat, staring at the little wooden carving in his hand. “Women often approach life just like a chess game. They’ll sacrifice the gentler pawn to capture the coveted king. Regardless of how much the pawn loves his queen.”
Ellena felt the betrayal in his words. Someone had once wounded him very deeply and she now understood that he had once been a pawn in the hands of some unfeeling woman. “Well, in my opinion the king is not at all worth coveting. Compared to other pieces, including the pawn, he’s quite useless.” She picked up her own white pawn and cradled it. “If you think about it, pawns are the boldest of all the pieces. They may not be the strongest, but they certainly are the bravest, always the first to march into battle unlike the king.”
This brought a smile to his face. His eyes then turned to her, a swirling pool of emotions reflected in his deep irises and she couldn’t look away. He took her hand and softly ran his callous fingers along her hand. “Are you warm enough?” he asked.
“Yes,” she breathed. In fact, she suddenly found it stifling hot. His gentle caresses were scorching as the hair on the back of her head stood up. It was almost like electricity streaking through her body.
“I-It’s still your turn,” she stuttered.
“Oh?” he breathed, drawing closer to her trembling form and completely ignoring the chess board. His face was merely inches from her own, his lips so close she could feel his breath and she closed her eyes— but not for long. Her eyes snapped back open when she felt his warm cheek planted firmly against hers. “Your fever has gone down quite considerably.”
His breath tickled her ears and Ellena felt his lips skim across her pale skin, forming a smile. He pulled away with a very mischievous grin on his face as she picked up one of her silk pillows and playfully hit him across his arm.
“That was low!” she cried.
He merrily laughed as he made his next move. “Bishop to your rook,” he proudly declared.
“My knight to your bishop!”
The game was an intense battle that lasted for hours, but it did eventually come to an end and Ellena once again reigned as the victor.
“Now, it’s time for you to keep your end of the bargain.”
“Ah yes! Where are we in the story?”
“The prince was off to find someone who could help him.”
“Well, after his heartbreak he went to see the village witch who he asked for a certain spell.”
“A spell?” she asked, hanging on to his every word. “To win his love back?”
“Oui, a love spell, but there are great consequences to using such magic.”
“What happened?” Ellena whispered.
“The spell, in return, enchanted his entire household, casting it into a forgotten, lonely existence, and the kind prince turned into a heartless beast. The town just beyond his home soon began to refer to him as the wolf because of his appetite for beautiful young maidens.”
“And?”
“That is all. He was never reunited with his love and the spell was never broken.”
“That’s it?” the young woman cried, horrified.
“Not all tales have a happy ending,” he flatly replied.
“Well, then. I guess there’s nothing I can do but to rewrite his tale and make sure it ends happily.”
“May I read it once you are finished?”
“I suppose so,” she smiled. “I would love to start writing it as soon as possible.”
“You are very welcome to use my per
sonal study, once you are feeling up to it of course. No one will bother you there.”
“I would greatly appreciate that,” she nodded, picking up her white queen. “But before all of that, are you up for another game?”
Chapter Twelve
She had barely slept all night, tossing and turning as wonderfully, glorious ideas floated about in her head. In the dead of night, she was already putting together the story, visualizing characters and developing delicious plot twists. At the first sign of dawn she jumped from her bed and dressed in a rather homely, maroon dress she found in the closet. It may not have been the most appealing apparel, but it certainly was the warmest. She wrapped her hair into a tight bun, brushed her teeth in the porcelain bowl by the window and bolted from the door.
Just as expected, Louisa and Gregor where already up, along with several other people who had been there to greet her when she had awoken. Of course Sir Philip was flouncing about, instructing some young boy on how to properly wash the windows. A girl, possibly about eight or so, dressed in a delicate white gown sped past with Rimi and Roma chasing her in a playful game of tag.
Ellena rounded the corner and bumped into a woman about her age with bright hazel eyes and lovely, long black hair.
“Bonjour,” she bowed.
Ellena returned the greeting as Louisa’s barreling voice boomed, calling for the young maiden and she hurried away.
“Ah, Gregor!” Ellena caught sight of him passing in an adjacent hall.
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