Blue Rose and Raven: Chapter Eighteen

Marius' family make the Beast feel welcome in their home.

For the first act of friendship, Camille took the initiative to prepare a small breakfast. It was an assortment of fresh leftover breads from Elaine and her grandmother, salted chicken and ham and fruits left in the pantry. The meal was not fancy or decadent for that was the point. Camille was very particular on that aspect. The Beast sat by the table watching the couple work, a small cup of their finest wine prepared by Camille on the table. She and Connie decided to be the cooks for this action, and I volunteered to help. Camille insisted I sit and wait. I stood by anyway just in case she needed a hand.

The new kitchen was a bright and clean place filled with all manner of pots and brass cooking items hanging from racks. A small bowl of vegetables hung from a chain coming from the ceiling. A brick alcove held a great sooty pit lit with blazing fire. Connie carefully turned the ham and chicken over an open fire while Camille searched through cabinets for plates and silverware. Once she’d found them, she set everything out neatly and orderly. The knives pointed towards the plates besides the spoons. “Basic manners that survived from my girlhood,” she said to the Beast as she prepared the setting. “I’m surprised it sunk in at all. It’s a habit at this point.” She neatly arranged each place at the wooden table. There was enough room for all six of us, with an extra chair for the Beast. “You know, my father enjoyed arranging model sets of armies. He was very particular about positioning and presentation. I always thought it was just his little bugbear. But part of the joy of a good meal is in the presentation as much as the food.”

 “I would know about performance. My days playing taught me its importance.” The Beast said.

“Then you would know how satisfying it is when a performance comes together.” Camille replied with a grin. “Sometimes there’s nothing better than a clean setting and home-cooked meal. Although I’m sure this far below anything you’re used to, having been born in such an extravagant home by your description.”

“It’s different,” The Beast said, looking around the kitchen. “Much smaller than the dining hall. But a pleasant difference.”

“What was it like, living in the dark like that?” Connie said over his shoulder as he cooked the meat. “It sounds awfully gloomy to live where the sun never rises.”

“I grew accustomed to the night in time. But it is nice to feel the warmth of the sun again after so long.” The Beast stretched a scaled hand to a ray of sunlight streaming through a window. The palm of her hand glowed bright white. “I had forgotten how it felt.”

“Did your servants ever eat with you?” Camille asked.

The Beast shook her head. “I requested to eat alone. I desired solitude above all else.” Her eyes became downcast. “I wonder if that was misguided.”

“From the story you told dear, I understand your wanting to be alone.” Camille stopped from her tasks to lay a hand on the Beast’s shoulder. “It’s not easy to carry so much inside.”

“That’s why she has me. I’ve got a strong enough back for both of us!” Connie piped.

“Hush,” Camille fired back.

“Only kidding, Cami,” My brother said with a smile. “In all seriousness, I think that’s one of the main reasons why we’ve remained married, besides Caesar of course. It’s a double act. We all need help sometimes, in big and small ways. She helps me with things, and I help her. I think we’ve been doing it well so far.”

“And love has nothing to do with it, obviously,” Camille said with a coy raised eyebrow.

“Of course it doesn’t.” Connie said with a wink. Camille laughed and strode over to plant a kiss on Connie’s cheek.

            The Beast was visibly confused by their interaction. “My mother would have been livid at such a comment.”

            “We’ve had disagreements. But I’d rather work through them instead of saying something I regret the next day.” Camille said as she sliced into a cantaloupe. Connie nodded in agreement.

            It was at that moment in which the Beast shifted her hand slightly to the side. In her lack of attention, the side of her hand connected to the wine cup. I saw it too late as did the Beast, and we watched it tumble off the table. The wine landed first, splattering like blood on the wooden floor while the cup clattered away to an unseen corner. For a moment there was a stunned silence where all that could be heard was the crackling of the fire. Connie and Camille were frozen like statues, not unlike the servants of the manor. Then I heard a sound in the Beast’s direction, after which I turned to see her on her hands and knees with a napkin in her hand. She was furiously wiping up the spilled wine, the napkin fully stained red. Her eyes were wide with fear. She was mumbling to herself. “Beast?” I asked. “Are you alright?” I knelt to the floor.

            “�"I’m so sorry, I have to clean this up, I didn’t mean to�"” were what I could make out as she muttered under her breath. The Beast frantically searched the floor for other droplets of wine to clean. Her voice was quiet and small. She did not resemble the figure of dark regality I’d come to know.

            “It’s alright Madame. We’ll clean that up for you.” Camille said, joining me near the Beast. “Please, there’s no need for that.”

            “�"I have to clean it up, I spilled it I have to�"" She continued mumbling.

            “Beast.” I said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

            She froze, then looked up from the floor with a start. She turned around at Connie, then Camille before turning to me. She blinked once, then again as if awakening from a trance. Then her gaze fell to the floor in embarrassment. “Forgive me. I�"I forgot myself for a moment.” She clutched my arm as I lifted her from the floor and toward her chair. “It shall not happen again.”

            “Goodness, dear, what got into you?” Camille said, sitting across from the Beast. “You seemed guilty for a far worse crime than spilling wine.”

            “I was reminded of something in the past,” The Beast said, clutching her retrieved cane tightly. “My dexterity was not great as a child. My father believed it to be disobedient for a time and would seek to correct it unless I cleaned up my messes.” She looked at her hands. I remembered her mentioning her father’s strict punitive measures. “His methods were interesting.”

            Camille noticed the Beast’s gaze and instantly understood. “That is cruel to do a child.” She took the Beast’s scaled hands in her own. “I would never to think to do that to my own. Caesar is a handful, yes. But I would never hurt him.”

            The Beast looked at her, eyes narrowed in confusion. “But don’t you hurt each other in different ways? Is that what families do?” Her words struck a pang of regret in my heart. I buried the feeling and continued watching the conversation.

            “If I hurt someone I love, it would be unintentionally.” Camille replied, squeezing the Beast’s hands tighter. “I would never set out to cause anyone pain, least of all my son. Believe me, these thoughts trouble me more often than I want to admit. I dread the day that I do something that hurts Caesar or anyone I care about that I can’t take back.” I watched Connie move to stand beside Camille and place a large hand on her shoulder. The love he held in his eyes for her at that moment would’ve made any man envious. “That would be the worst offense in the world. I can only love the way I know how to, but I know for certain that what your father did to you was not love.” She gently touched the Beast’s cheek and smiled. “You don’t have to worry about anything like that here.” Camille withdrew her hand and returned to preparing breakfast while Connie went to finish cleaning up the wine. They returned to fixing breakfast as the Beast watched in quiet contemplation.

 

            It was an interesting experience eating with others present again. In the over half-year I spent with the Beast I had become used to only the Beast’s company. The servants were so silent and efficient I barely noticed their presence at all. Now I was home, and I realized how much I missed seeing my family beside me. The silverware was not silver nor were the plates lined with gold, but all the finery in the world could not be traded with the sheer sense of warmth and companionship that filled the kitchen as we enjoyed breakfast together. We laughed and dined and enjoyed each other’s company; August and Connie took turns ribbing each other, Mother regaled everyone of tales of encounters with oddball businessmen and other delightful mundanities; and Caesar roughly squeezed and petted the Beast’s nine-fingered hand with an uncanny curiosity.

Here was where I learned what I had missed in the seven months that I was away: The day after I left, a trunk full of gold arrived at the doorstep of the cottage. At the same time, a letter from a prospective business partner of Mother’s arrived sooner than anticipated. The letter was already en route. It was the Beast’s intervention which brought it to its destination. The family managed to buy a new larger house as well as a space to serve as a new merchant’s office. Unfortunately, M. Benoit’s exorbitant taxation cut significantly into the family funds. In response, the very same trunk would be found with more gold to compensate for whatever the family needed at that time. Benoit came by several times to inquire the nature of this new benefactor, suspecting a carriage or hand delivery. He found nothing and left each time.

            “The Bottomless Trunk,” The Beast said with a glint in her eye at the mention of the trunk. “A gift given to my grandfather. I knew I’d find a use for it. Anything you need, it will provide in spades.”

            Connie was now co-owner of his carpentry shop, going so far to provide the shop with better tools and more hands as well as greater salaries for the employees. August left working for Benoit to return to Mother’s side in bookkeeping for the trading company. Camille no longer needed to work, being able to stay home full time to care for Caesar as well as maintain the house. As for Elaine and her grandmother, the news of the Dufresnes’ sudden fortune was a great surprise to them as was my disappearance. Mother offered to share some of the gold, but M. DeRose turned it away. The elderly woman claimed it cursed, unfit to be used. Elaine on the other hand took a few pieces of gold for safe keeping.

At the news of M. DeRose’s rejection and scorn, the Beast’s expression darkened. I wondered whether she wished to know of the legends that surrounded her and her estate. Up to this point, she had proven them wrong. I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be a creature of myth whispered in stories, much less show up at someone’s doorstep to ask for forgiveness. I only hoped that bringing her home was the right choice and not a harbinger of some yet unseen catastrophe.

           

Author's Note

General thoughts please.