Beauty Within

by Emily L Goodman

  We’re here for him,she reminded herself. If the carver can make this crutch, it will make his life so much easier for the next several weeks, while his knee heals. It’ll be worth me being gone for a few hours.

  Mrs. Martel smiled gently at her. “You worry too much,” she told her.

  “Would you worry if it was your husband?” Callista asked curiously.

  “Oh, well…” Mrs. Martel leaned over to pat her husband on the shoulder. “He knows better than to be foolish just because I’m not there to remind him. He’s had years of reminding to help it sink in.”

  Callista giggled. “Obviously, you haven’t been reminding Griffin hard enough,” she informed her.

  “Oh, no, dear.” Mrs. Martel’s eyes sparkled almost as brightly as Callista’s. “I’ll leave that to you.”

  Callista couldn’t help the broad smile spreading across her face as she hopped down from the cart—but it dropped from her face when two people came running up to her.

  “Callista!” There were tears sparkling in Arabella’s eyes.

  “Oh, thank goodness!” Juliette pressed a hand to her chest, looking like she was trying to hold herself together.

  “What’s wrong?” Callista looked from one of them to the other, frowning. “You all are okay, aren’t you?”

  “We’re fine—but oh, I’m so glad that you came in the cart today instead of walking! You can’t go walking through the forest alone anymore, Callista. Promise me!” Arabella demanded imperiously.

  “I—what?” She frowned.

  “There was an attack.” Juliette whispered the words. “George and Hugo—they were walking out in the woods, hunting, I think.” She glanced at Arabella for confirmation.

  Arabella frowned, but nodded firmly as though she was sure that was exactly what they had been doing.

  “What happened to them?” Callista couldn’t look either of her friends in the eye. She didn’t like the fact that news of the attack had spread so quickly to her friends—and she didn’t like the worry in Juliette’s eyes.

  “Wolves, they said,” Juliette whispered.

  “Or maybe a bear?” Arabella frowned.

  “There are wild animals in those woods—terrible beasts.” Juliette whispered, her voice incredibly low. “There have been attacks before, but never like this.”

  “Are they all right?” Not that she felt a great deal of sympathy for her attackers, but still…

  “George is pretty messed up,” Arabella told her. “And Hugh looks terrible—but they’re going to be okay.” She made a face. “They’re getting plenty of sympathy over at the tavern to make up for it.”

  Juliette rolled her eyes. “And never mind that most of the time, they’re the ones pinching barmaids and having brothers whisper that you shouldn’t go off alone about them.”

  “Juliette!” Arabella protested.

  She made a face. “Well, fine,” she muttered. “But they’re not very nice people.”

  Callista frowned. She shouldn’t ask. Really, she shouldn’t, because the last thing she wanted was people asking questions about what had really attacked George and Hugo—and wasn’t it convenient that the curse took hold and prevented them from remembering what had really gone on?—but there was something about the look in Juliette’s eyes… “Did they ever give you a hard time?” she wanted to know. She’d deal with the fact that the town magistrate apparently didn’t remember that Hemsworth had come to issue a warning later.

  “No. No, of course not.” But Juliette folded her arms over her chest tightly, looking defensive as she said it.

  Callista nodded slightly, accepting both the real truth and what her friend was willing to say.

  “They haven’t been messing with you, have they?”

  Callista hesitated. She shouldn’t say it. Mentioning anything that could tie back to the curse was probably going to be a big mistake, but… “Yeah,” she admitted. “They were kind of harassing me yesterday.”

  Arabella gasped. “They didn’t follow you into the forest, did they? I mean—were they that close to you when they were attacked?”

  “I—I’m sure they weren’t,” Callista said quickly. “Don’t worry—I never heard so much as a growl.”

  Arabella didn’t look convinced. Juliette looked even more uncomfortable.

  “Well, I’m glad that something took care of them before they could hurt you,” Arabella said firmly, looking from Callista to Juliette as though she was dying to go probing but couldn’t quite convince herself to do it. “You’d just better make sure you aren’t in the woods after dark anymore, that’s all.”

  Callista sighed. “I won’t be,” she promised quietly. “And anyway, I’ve already made—well, I won’t be in the woods alone anymore, period.”

  “Oh, you’ve been making promises to the mystery guy, have you?” Juliette teased. It looked like she was trying to force the sparkle back into her eyes, but she did light up at the mention of Callista’s “mystery guy.”

  Not such a mystery. I’d love to tell you all about him—and I will, someday, when the curse is broken. Today, she’d just smile mysteriously and admit, “I need to do a favor for him today. Do you think the carver over by Vincent’s bookshop would be able to handle creating me a set of crutches—preferably today?”

  “Is someone hurt?” Arabella demanded.

  “He twisted his knee.” Callista smiled very faintly, trying to play it off even though chances were excellent that they’d never meet Griffin for themselves. “And he’s having a hard time getting around—and, well, it’s almost Christmas.”

  “I bet Phillip will make something work for you. Come on.” Arabella tugged at her arm. “Let’s go see!”

  “I, um—” She glanced over her shoulder at Mrs. Martel, who had been talking patiently with her husband. Callista was embarrassed to admit that she had almost forgotten the older woman—even worse, given how kind she had been on the drive into town.

  “Go on, dear.” Mrs. Martel patted her shoulder gently. “We’ll be here when you’re done.”

  Callista gave her a quick smile. “We’ll be back soon,” she promised.

  In the end, as it turned out, getting the crutches made took longer than Callista had hoped. She ended up needing to stay in town for a few hours while Phillip made something up for her—nothing fancy, he’d told her, but something sufficient.

  Would he have done better, faster, maybe, if she’d been able to tell him that he was doing work for the prince? Maybe. Probably not. She got the impression that he, like so many others, was a bit smitten with Arabella and would do his best work to gain a smile and her approval. Still, she chafed at the time needed—time when she couldn’t be sitting by Griffin’s side, keeping him entertained.

  She was glad she’d left Hemsworth with him. At least he wasn’t lying there alone and in pain…right?

  She hated the fact that she didn’t know for sure. In fact, Callista was seriously considering just darting up to the castle for a few minutes and coming back down later—and likely would have, if Arabella had let her.

  Arabella, however, was glued to Callista’s side, clearly worried that she was going to disappear on her—or worse, that she was going to decide to hurry off into the woods on her own. “You could get him that dessert he likes,” she suggested when Callista slipped out of the carver’s store at her side a little bit later. “Or maybe some books to read? Something that will help him pass the time, you know?”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Callista agreed—though reluctantly. She just wanted to be done with her purchases and get back to the castle.

  “I wish you’d tell us more about him,” Arabella huffed as Callista wandered through the bookshop, stopping to browse in front of some titles she thought might interest Griffin. “Honestly, Callista, how are we supposed to help you pick out a book for him when we don’t even know what he likes?”

  Callista made a face at her. “How are your reading lessons coming along?” she wanted to know.


  “Oh…not bad, actually.” Arabella blushed. “Look—I can actually read the titles on—well, most of these, now.” She was frowning over a fantasy story that Callista didn’t recognize: The Knights of Leloria.

  “Some of those fantasy names are made just to be difficult, I think,” Callista declared cheerfully.

  “Maybe so.” Arabella sighed. “I just wish it would hurry up and get to the day when I can read as well as you can. You read entire huge books like it’s nothing!”

  “You could go to school with the kids,” Juliette suggested softly.

  Arabella made a face at her. “I’m not twelve!” she protested.

  “Maybe not,” Callista agreed. “But the lessons are at the right level—and I bet the local teacher would be glad to have you.”

  “She’d probably declare me a civilizing influence, or something equally silly.” Arabella made a face at her.

  “And would you be?” Juliette teased.

  Arabelle made a face. “Not even for a day!” she declared dramatically.

  “Come on.” Callista chose a couple of books she thought Griffin would like—they would go well with the other she’d already purchased—and tugged Arabella over to the corner of the store where Vincent kept a few comfortable chairs for people who wanted to just sit and read. “We’ll work on it for a little while.”

  “Oh, but—” Arabella began.

  “Nope. No arguments. I’m here, and it looks like I’ve got a few hours to kill.” Callista made a face. “So keep me busy, would you?”

  “All right, fine.” Arabella flounced down in the chair.

  They spent the hours of the wait together; and while time did not exactly pass quickly, Callista had to admit that it passed faster than it would have if she had been alone. She was grateful for the presence of her friends, grateful for Arabella’s habit of making her laugh even when she wasn’t sure she found anything funny.

  Please, God, let Hemsworth be doing the same thing for Griffin—or let him be resting. Rest would be good. It was rest that would hep him heal, put his battered body back together again.

  She just wanted to be there to watch over him, the way she had through the night. It was silly. He was probably perfectly fine—perfectly fine, and grateful that he could just sleep, instead of feeling like he had to entertain her. But…

  “It’s okay.” Juliette laid a gentle hand on top of Callista’s.

  “What?” Callista jumped.

  “You haven’t heard anything we’ve said for the last five minutes!” Arabella pouted.

  “And it’s all right,” Juliette insisted gently. “She’s worrying about him—her mystery man.” She didn’t put the usual teasing inflection on those words.

  Callista gave her friend a soft, slightly sad smile. “He’s probably fine,” she said quietly.

  “But you’re going to worry until you’re back with him.” Juliette linked her arm through Callista’s. “Come on. Let’s go see if Phillip has managed to finish up a bit early. He does that sometimes, you know—gives a lot longer estimate than he really needs.”

  Callista made a face.

  “He obviously doesn’t know you’re frantic to get back.” Arabella sniffed. “Though, with Christmas coming, you could spend some time with your friends.”

  Callista wrinkled her nose at her. “All day yesterday wasn’t enough?” she wanted to know.

  “It’s never enough. How can your mystery man possibly compare to this?” Arabella skipped a step or two toward the carver’s shop. “Speaking of which, you are coming down for the big Christmas Eve party, aren’t you? Say you will! It won’t be the same without you.”

  “I—” Callista hesitated. “I’m going to stay with Griffin.” The moment the words were out, she could feel that it was the right decision—and not just because he was hurt.

  “You could bring your mystery man down with you,” Arabella pointed out.

  “Not if he’s hurt,” Juliette reminded her before Callista could. “And if she’s down here waiting for a set of crutches and fretting about it, I bet he’s not going to be all healed up by Christmas.”

  “Oh, boo.” Arabella pouted. “Well, the moment he’s better, then,” she insisted. “Really, Callista, it’s not the thing to keep your friends in the dark this way—unless you’re afraid something will happen if you bring him down here.”

  “Of course I’m not worried about that. He just…can’t.” Callista looked away. Even if she explained the curse to them, it wouldn’t matter: they wouldn’t be able to remember it anyway.

  “Oh, fine.” Arabella frowned. “He’s not an invalid, is he? Because Callista—”

  “Even if he was, I’d still—” She bit her lip, cutting off the words.

  “Still what?” Juliette leaned in, her eyes sparkling.

  “Still—well—” Callista fumbled. “I care about him—you have to know that—”

  “And?”

  “And…I…” I love him. She couldn’t say it to someone else before she said it to Griffin, though, could she?

  He knew she cared about him. He’d asked for her permission to court her, and she’d given it; and over the past several months, since she’d been with him, she’d gotten the impression that their relationship had grown into something beautiful.

  But love?

  It couldn’t be…could it?

  “You’re in love.” Juliette sighed, pressing her hands to her heart.

  “I’m a little jealous,” Arabella admitted, swooning slightly.

  “I can’t be in love!” Callista protested—but then, wasn’t that what the entire year was supposed to be about? Griffin needed someone who could fall in love with the man beneath the beast—someone who could see the hidden beauty that he typically chose to keep to himself.

  Was she that someone? She found that she couldn’t imagine it being anyone else—and perhaps that was the best answer she could give, especially right now.

  Arabella held the shop open for her, ushering her inside. “Sounds like love to me,” she teased gently.

  Callista didn’t have an answer for her. Luckily, she didn’t have to. Phillip was smiling broadly at her, hurrying over to pick up the crutches he’d carved and hold them out for her inspection. He had been right: they weren’t anything fancy. They were, however, something that Griffin could lean on to get around until his knee healed. “Thank you,” she breathed, clutching them to her. They were large, and unwieldy—well, crutches for a man who was seven feet tall would be, after all.

  “You’re welcome.” He bowed slightly to her. “I can’t imagine what you’d need such a thing for just days before Christmas, but I hope it works for you.”

  Callista opened her mouth to explain and opted to simply smile instead. There was no explaining it, not really.

  She just wanted to get them to Griffin anyway.

  Unfortunately, in order to get it to Griffin, she had to find the Martels. She’d expected them to be standing near the cart in spite of the fact that it was still a couple of hours before Phillip’s predicted time. Mrs. Martel, she’d gotten the feeling, was just as eager to return to the castle as she was.

  Except that they were nowhere to be found.

  Callista left the crutches in the cart, which was still tied outside the store, and combed the town, Arabella and Juliette at her side.

  “They have to be here,” she whispered, feeling a little frantic. “Where could they be?”

  “I’m sure they’re around somewhere,” Juliette soothed her quickly.

  “They can’t have gone far. The town’s not that big!” Arabella added.

  It was exactly what Callista would have said in their place, but that didn’t make it any more true. In spite of her search, the hour passed, and she had returned to the cart herself with no sign of them.

  And they still didn’t come.

  Callista’s heart clenched. She couldn’t imagine that Mrs. Martel, who had known Griffin from the time he was a child, had forgotten him. Surely
she hadn’t.

  Except that there was no one anywhere near the cart. No one came.

  Callista bowed her head, sure of what was coming. She looked over at Arabella and Juliette. Just how far will the curse go, God? She prayed silently.

  There was no sudden bolt of understanding, but that was all right. She was fairly sure she already knew. “Is there an older couple in town—the Martels?” she wanted to know.

  “Oh, yes. That’s not who you were looking for, is it?” Arabella demanded, her hands on her hips. “Honestly, Callista, you should have just said so! Come on—she’s probably at work.” She walked straight over to the local inn, holding the door open imperiously for Callista.

  Inside was Mrs. Martel, briskly delivering bowls of soup and crusty pieces of bread to the travelers gathered inside.

  Callista felt her heart clench. No. Oh, no, God, please. Lift the curse enough that she can remember him. Don’t let him lose her, too!

  “Why, hello, dears.” Mrs. Martel looked up at them. “Can I get you a bowl of soup?”

  “No—no, we aren’t here to eat. Mrs. Martel…” Callista took a deep breath. “Do you remember Griffin?”

  “Griffin?” Mrs. Martel frowned for a long moment. “I kept a child called Griffin once—helped his mother raise him up from a baby, I did. He was such a sweet thing.” She smiled contentedly. “I suppose he’s all grown up now. So much the better—I’ve got grandchildren to raise, you know. My daughter just sent me a letter yesterday.” She held it out to Callista. “Twins! Can you imagine? A boy and a girl. She and her husband are going to move up here as soon as she’s healed from the birth. I can’t imagine why they didn’t do it sooner, but they’ve been so stubborn, you know.” She clasped her hands together, looking excited. “I can’t wait to meet them. I’ve wanted grandchildren for so long….” Her voice trailed off.

  Callista had to turn away from her to hide the single tear sliding down her cheek. Please, God? “Are you sure you haven’t seen Griffin more recently?” she asked cautiously. “In the past few weeks, maybe?”

  “Oh, no, dear.” Mrs. Martel patted her shoulder in a motherly way. “I haven’t seen him in—my goodness, it must be five years or more!”