Depravity, A Beauty and the Beast Novel(16)

Outside, I heard a flutter of wings; and as I looked up at the partially shuttered window, the crow used his beak to make room for himself on the ledge. Blye opened the door behind me before I could shoo the crow away.

“Did you try it on?” she asked impatiently.

I turned away from the voyeuristic crow and shrugged my arms into the shirt. It fit, but it pulled snugly from shoulder to shoulder across the back. Frowning, I closed the front and began to button it up, seeing the problem immediately. The shirt buttons strained to close the gap between the front two panels and created small spaces where anyone could see my bindings or stomach for that matter.

Disappointment clearly on my face, I looked up at her. Her expression remained impassive.

“Well, I tried. The cloth I had didn’t match, and you would have looked like a patchwork. Perhaps Father can save for a new one. Until then, you do have the dress.”

I stared after her as she glided from the room and closed the door. The dress? In a disbelieving trance, I walked across the room to one of the compact chests sitting on the floor at the foot of the larger bed that Blye and Bryn shared. There was one chest for each of my sisters, gifts from our mother, who’d died before giving one to me. She’d meant them as a place for us to store the things we would collect for our own homes.

Carefully lifting the lid of Blye’s chest, I gazed at the yards of folded fabrics stacked neatly on top of each other and the various lengths of ribbon lying on top of them. Threads of several colors twined around a thin spindle. Under the spindle, a simple bolt of roughly woven cream cotton material rested all but forgotten beside the prettily colored fine weaves. I would have liked to think Blye had overlooked the material; but wrapped in a bit of coarse thread, the section on my shirt she’d taken away sat beside it. She was right. The colors didn’t quite match, but she had enough of the other material to make me a whole new shirt if she chose to. It hurt knowing she couldn’t spare anything for me when I’d given so much to her.

A clicking at the window distracted me; and I let the lid close softly, leaving the contents undisturbed. The crow opened and closed its beak several times without making any other sound and then took off from the sill, leaving me in peace.

Shaking out the dress and brushing as much of the dirt from it as I could, I spread it on the bed and went to the kitchen to wash up. Two kettles rested on the stove in the vacant kitchen. I fetched a cloth and tested the water. Still cool. Frowning, I checked the stove. Bryn hadn’t even added wood to it to heat the water. Sighing, I set to washing in the cold water, wiping my skin, but foregoing rinsing my hair. Instead, after I finished and changed back into the dress, I ran a brush through it then braided it again.

Tossing the water into the garden out back, I noticed the crow watching from the top of our tiny outbuilding that housed the goat and a few garden tools. It watched me closely, its quiet more disturbing than its previous cawing. I thoughtfully narrowed my eyes at it before going inside.

Finally ready, I knocked on Father’s study door. He stood before the window, staring out at nothing when I entered, but quickly turned to hand me a sealed letter.

“Try to be home before dark and save me from another night’s worry, Bini,” he said softly, kissing my cheek.

I nodded and moved aside to let him pass. He’d obviously been waiting for me so he could leave for the school and ring the bell to call his pupils.



The crow followed me as I walked away from the cottage, heading northwest toward the road. I wanted to angle north enough to miss any possibility of running into Tennen or Splane. I imagined by now, Tennen knew I’d returned home, thanks to Bryn, and wondered at his reaction.

Lost in thought, I continued my journey until the crow flew at me from the left, making a racket and flapping in my face. Raising my arms for protection, I turned away, instinctively taking several large steps to put distance between us. So far, the crow had just followed me; the violence of its sudden attack left me with a racing heart and confused. I had no food with me to give it cause to chase me, even though the journey promised to be long and tiring.

It retreated, and I tentatively lowered my arms to look for it. It had perched on a branch not far to my left. It cocked its head, studying me intensely. Warily, I gave it wide berth and tried striking out northwest again. Every time I veered even the slightest bit in a westerly direction, it flew at me.

Scowling, I headed north to the estate. It followed me closely, herding me to the gate, which swung open at my approach. I stopped to look at the crow.

“I truly feel I’ve tempted fate enough. I don’t suppose you’d leave me in peace if I went no further.”