Depravity, A Beauty and the Beast Novel(19)

“And you are?”

“Sorry,” I said, remembering myself. “Benella.”

“I am Tibit. Would you mind if I read the letter?” He didn’t reach for the letter I held out, letting me decide first. Since I had no idea what it contained, I didn’t know what to say. Though my father trusted me, at least I thought he did, he knew to what extent I could protect his letter and surely wouldn’t write anything of significant importance.

“I think that would be fine, Mr. Tibit.”

“Just Tibit will do,” he said politely, reaching for the letter. He broke the seal and scanned the contents. “Ah, yes. The school master.”

“My father,” I clarified.

Tibit looked up at me with a half-smile.

“Tell your father the offer still stands, and we are pleased to hear he is finally considering it.”

With that, he moved back to his desk, effectively dismissing me with not one offer of refreshment or further explanation. I kept my disappointment from my face and thanked him for his time before taking my leave. A hint about the offer after which my father had inquired would have been nice, but a drink much more welcomed.



After some time on the road, the rattle and clink of a wagon sounded ahead. Cautiously, I moved aside. Traffic from Konrall was rare, and I wasn’t sure what to expect. Perhaps the baker was heading toward the mill for his flour. I quickly fled the road. The mist welcomed me as I slipped through the trees in the direction of the wall. The rattle of the wagon grew louder as it neared.

Peeking through the trees, I sighed in relief when I spotted the traveling merchant’s wagon but didn’t step out to greet him. I didn’t want to startle the horses. Exhausted, I trudged the rest of the way home to arrive before dinner and Father’s return.

“Where did Father send you?” Bryn asked, opening the cottage door before I could knock.

“Please, sister,” I said. “I’m tired, thirsty, and hungry. Let me in so I can sit.”

She scowled at me but moved aside so I could shuffle into the dim cottage. The sky had grown increasingly dark during my journey home, and now a thick, light grey blanket of clouds covered the sun. With no candles to spare, Bryn had lit a fire in the hearth to try to brighten the kitchen. I sat in a chair and sighed when she sat across from me.

“Well?”

It wasn’t that I expected my sister to wait on me. I’d just thought she would have the courtesy to offer to get me a drink after knowing I’d been gone all day. Tiredly, I stood and fetched myself a cup of water.

“Benella. Really, where are your manners? I’m asking you a question,” she said.

“Water-On-The-Bridge,” I managed to say between gulps.

“How unfair,” Bryn cried.

Blye stepped into the room from our bedroom, two panels of fabric in her hands and pins in her mouth. Bryn spotted the question in her eyes and explained.

“Father sent Benella to Water-On-The-Bridge.” Bryn turned back to me. “We’re both older. We should have been allowed to go.”

I set down the cup with a laugh.

“You would have walked twelve miles and back in a single day without any food or water? I doubt not.”

Bryn had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “I thought Father sent you in a wagon.”

“With what coin?” I said, exasperated. Her face took on a flushed hue, and Blye’s eyes rounded. “I’m tired,” I said quickly before she could respond. I turned to head to our room.

Blye spit the pins out into one of her hands.

“You can’t go in there. I’m using your bed to lay out my dress pattern.” I stared at her. Using my bed to make another new dress for herself? Perhaps, if I hadn’t been so tired, my temper would have sparked, but I couldn’t find the energy.

Instead of answering, I turned and let myself into Father’s study, closing the door behind me. His chair wasn’t very comfortable to sleep in, but the rug before his hearth would suit me fine. I lay down on the floor and closed my eyes.





Five


“Bini, child, wake up,” Father said softly, touching my hair.

The shoulder pressing into the rug ached with cold, and my eyes felt hot and gritty as I blinked them open. Outside, the wind blew, rattling the branches, and a slight breeze came down the unlit chimney in Father’s study.

“Come eat some warm soup,” he encouraged, helping me to my feet.

In the kitchen, Bryn and Blye waited at the table. The unusual sight gave me pause. They never held dinner for me. As soon as I sat, Bryn started serving a thick vegetable soup.

“I assume everything went well at the Water, Bini?” Father asked while we waited.