Depravity (A Beastly Tale Book 1)(5)

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

Behind me, the beast's growl clicked with his anger. I kept my eyes on  the overgrown gravel path at my feet. I didn't try to beg or flee. It  hadn't ever ended well for those who'd attempted such methods before me.  Better to just accept the punishment quietly.

His growl grew louder as he crept closer, and his breath skimmed my  back. Tennen, the bastard, had ripped my shirt with his vicious swing.

Something warm and wet touched my abraded skin, eliciting an involuntary  hiss from my lips and a quick step forward. The growl intensified, and I  froze. Had the beast just licked me?

In all of the stories told of the estate, I'd never heard any where the  beast devoured trespassers. Fear of just that locked me in place, and he  stepped forward and repeated his stroke. The slow drag of his tongue  hurt as much as it soothed.

Several times, he covered the area from mid-back to left shoulder. The  fabric of my shirt ripped further as he forced it aside with his face. I  didn't move or make any further sound. With each stroke of his tongue,  the pain of the scratch faded as did the throb in my shoulder where the  stone had hit.

One moment he licked my skin and the next I sailed through the air,  somersaulting only to land gently in a pile of hay. Coughing at the  plume of dust my landing had stirred, I waved my hand in front of my  face and looked at the empty place just inside the gate.

For whatever reason, the beast had spared me.

* * * *

Bryn gasped when I walked through the door. I knew I looked a mess but  thought the gasp a bit of an overreaction. She hadn't even seen the back  of me, yet. Blye, hearing our sister, stepped out from our room just as  Bryn asked what had happened to me. Knowing Bryn wouldn't want to hear  of Tennen's attack, I opened my mouth, ready to tell her that I had run  into a branch. But, Father stepped out of his study. I snapped my mouth  closed.

At that moment, I loved and hated my family because of the tangled web  of lies that held my tongue. Bryn hoarded Father's coin in hopes of  attracting Tennen's "wealthy" hand, Blye hoarded coin to run away to a  town with more prospects, and I had no doubt our intelligent Father knew  of both their activities but said nothing because he was content in  this poor village. All of which put pressure on me to scrounge the  countryside for food and trade with that pig of a baker.                       
       
           



       

I refused to add to the lies. My anger couldn't last, though, as I  watched my father's eyes soften. They were my family, all that I had.

"Well, Bini?" Father asked. "What happened to you, dear?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," I said sullenly.

"Come into my study."

Without a choice, I followed him and listened to another gasp as my  sisters saw the damage to my coarse cotton shirt. I'd be forced to wear  my dress tomorrow, and that annoyed me.

Father held the door for me and shut it with a soft click after I  entered. I stood facing his desk while he circled around me, clucking  his tongue. Behind me, he lightly touched my back where Tennen's branch  had ripped into my skin.

"Looks like something scraped you, hard. Luckily, it didn't break the skin. A branch, perhaps?"

He circled around me once more to sit in his chair, studying me as he  moved. I kept my face relaxed, even though I fought a growing tension.  The branch had cut me, I knew it had, but somehow father only saw a  scrape. The only explanation I could form was the beast's tongue. Had he  really healed me? If so, to what purpose? And why throw me into the hay  on my second trespass? Everyone knew that being caught a second time  meant some kind of injury.

"Tennen swung a branch at me, and Splane threw a rock while I was setting traps near the estate," I said, speaking the truth.

"Why would Tennen do such a thing? I thought he liked your sister."

I snorted softly before I could stop myself and glanced at the door.  Father rose quietly and peered out the door. I caught a glimpse of  Blye's skirt as she turned the corner to our room.

He shut the door and raised a brow at me, encouraging me to speak.

"I saw something I wish I wouldn't have. The baker is trading for bread,  but has no interest in produce. He...wanted something from Sara." A  flush crept into my cheeks, and I couldn't say more.

"I see," my father murmured in surprise. "And Tennen?"

"When I fled from the baker's alley, Tennen and Splane were there,  waiting for Sara. They knew I saw something I shouldn't have, and they  have been making my life difficult since. They said I think I'm better  than them." I met my father's eyes earnestly. "I've never knowingly  given them cause to think that. We're just as poor as the rest thanks to  Bryn's stealing and Blye's hoarding."

He didn't act surprised by what I said. Instead, he seemed saddened, and  I knew then that I had been right. Father was aware of both my sisters'  activities.

"I'm sorry you are the one to suffer for our failings. I can begrudge  neither Blye keeping the coin that she works so hard to earn, nor Bryn  the coin she sets aside since she keeps my house. I only regret there is  nothing I can give you for your care of us."

He looked away to stare out the window for several long moments while I  squirmed under my guilt for thinking poorly of him. Of course, he knew  what went on in his house. I should have trusted he had a reason to  allow it.

"Perhaps there is something I can do for you, now," he said. "Blye.  Bryn," he called loudly, startling me. He never raised his voice.

The door opened moments later, and they crowded into the study with us. I wondered how much my sisters had heard.

"Bryn, your sister has suffered some injuries that require a hot soak. I know it is an effort, but-"

Bryn waved away the rest of what he would say.

"I'll ready a bath for her." She turned and left.

"Blye, your sister has so little in the way of clothes and cannot afford to lose a shirt. Can you mend it?"

Blye stepped behind me, tisking. "I could, but she'll look like a  beggar. Better to take the shirt apart and use some of my spare cloth  for a new back panel."

"How long will that take?" Father asked.

"I should have it done tomorrow evening."

He thanked her and waved her away before turning back to me.

"Go clean up and let your sister have your shirt. Tomorrow you'll have  to suffer your dress." He gave me a small grin, knowing I preferred my  trousers. "The day after, I will have an errand for you, so do not make  any plans for that day." He stood and planted a kiss atop my head.

Knowing I was dismissed, I stood and left his study to find a waiting  Blye. She didn't look angry, so I didn't think she'd heard the part  about her hoarding her coin.

"Bryn's heating water in the kitchen. Could I have your shirt? I'd like to wash it before working with it."

I didn't blame her for wanting it clean. Tracked with dirt and beast  spit, it didn't look pleasant. Since Father stayed in his study to  assure privacy our small cottage lacked when any of us bathed, I quickly  shrugged out of the shirt and torn bindings and handed everything over  to her. She walked through the kitchen and out the back door to the  well. Naked from the waist up, I covered myself with my arms and went to  the kitchen.                       
       
           



       

The skin of my back felt tight, and my shoulder still ached a bit when I  stretched it forward. The beast had healed me but not completely. As I  sat on a chair and waited, I wondered again the reason behind his mercy.  Thinking of the puzzling beast was much more pleasant than the baker's  depravity or my sisters' deceit. Yet, my thoughts tended to wander in  their direction.

Bryn had the fire stoked to heat the water, so I was comfortable while  she sweated. A while later, she pronounced the tub ready and moved the  bathing screen in front of it before stepping outside to cool herself.

I stripped down and slid into the water with a contented sigh, putting  thoughts of the baker, the beast, village boys, and family lies from my  head.





Three


In the morning, I was last from bed, not wanting my sisters around when I  dressed. Blye had thoughtfully hung my dress the night before so the  wrinkles from storage would fall out on their own.

The dress was a gift from Blye and my father for my birthday more than  six months ago. Father had supplied the material, and Blye had worked on  it for weeks, making me stand for several painfully boring fittings. I  typically only wore it on washdays and then hid in the cottage with it.  Blye usually laughed at me.

Light blue with a full skirt edged with a white ruffle, topped with a  square-necked, long-sleeved bodice, it truly was a thing of beauty, but I  looked so different in it. I didn't think it made me look awful, just  overly feminine. Secretly, I was concerned with the responsibilities  wearing such a dress might bring. With my britches, most people let me  go my way. Sighing, I stood and slipped the pretty dress over my head,  not bothering with any bindings.