Page 13

Chapter thirteen

Beatrice

By the time Guinevere arrived in Beatrice's bedchamber, Beatrice had returned from Alexander's room and was sitting at her boudoir table, waiting for her.

“Good morning, Guinevere,” Beatrice said cheerfully as Guinevere walked in.

“How can I help you this morning, my lady?” Guinevere asked, standing behind her and reaching for the comb.

Beatrice met her eyes in the mirror. “You can tell me what sort of curse you think my husband has gotten tangled up in.”

Guinevere froze. “He told you?”

Beatrice shook her head. “You know he can't, but I figured enough of it out when I overheard him having a nightmare last night. He was talking in his sleep.”

Guinevere’s eyes widened. “He can talk about it in his sleep? That means the curse probably had something to do with not telling anyone else and isn’t specifically about stopping the words. I wonder if he can tell the cat.”

Beatrice grinned at the thought of Alexander baring his soul to Rose the dragon. “I don't know,” she said. “Maybe he’s tried it, but I don't know what the result was.”

“So what do you know about it?” Guinevere asked as she began working the comb through Beatrice's hair.

“Not much,” Beatrice admitted. “I know that he is under a silencing curse and that we have until his birthday to prepare for whatever is going to happen that he can’t talk about. I just can't believe he’s under a curse. I didn’t think curses were real.”

“There are many things that most people in Galamere don’t think of as real,” Guinevere said.

“Like what?” Beatrice asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.

Guinevere shrugged a shoulder. “I wouldn't know.”

Beatrice took a deep breath. There were too many secrets here. “All right, then, keep your secrets, but know that I'm on to you,” she said, “and I will figure it out.”

“I have no doubt,” Guinevere said with a smile. “So now that you know, what do you intend to do about it?”

Beatrice sighed. “I’m not sure. I plan to start in the library as soon as we are done breaking our fast and look for any books that have anything to do with magic.”

“And sorcery,” Guinevere said darkly. “It’s the most likely culprit for a curse.”

As if that wasn’t suspicious. “You seem to know more than you're letting on,” Beatrice said.

Guinevere said nothing.

“Are you under a silencing curse too?” Beatrice asked.

Guinevere shook her head. “No, I just know that magic is illegal in our country.”

Beatrice took a deep breath. “Of course,” she said. “Forgive me, I ought not to pry. But if there is anything you know that will help my husband—”

“Of course,” Guinevere said. “Lord Dunham has done many things for my family and for me, and if there is anything I can do to help him, you can be sure that I will do it.”

“And if there's anything else you think will help me to begin my search in the library—”

“Maybe I will join you in the library,” Guinevere said. “It may be helpful for both of us. And I’m working on something else that I hope may help.”

When Beatrice opened her mouth to inquire, Guinevere shook her head. “No. I am not ready to share what it is yet, because it may come to nothing.”

Beatrice sighed but stopped asking questions as Guinevere helped her get dressed. She made her way down the grand staircase and was relieved that she didn't slip or fall on her face this time, and it only took her a moment to remember the way to the dining room.

She wasn't sure how she would react when she saw Alexander again.

It had been a little awkward when she had to leave his bed to go back to her room. Even though nothing had happened and they were married…it still made her unsure of what would happen next between them.

It had been so natural to sit next to him and make sure he didn't continue to have nightmares. Every time she’d let go of his arm, he’d started trembling again. So she’d stayed until at last, she had succumbed to sleep after what felt like two or three hours.

But somehow, she couldn't shake the fact that he had talked in his sleep and said things that he probably would never have said had he been awake.

She could not change the horrible things that had happened in his past, but she could help prevent whatever was going to happen next. She just had to figure out how to do that, and if that meant she spent the next five days in a library researching, that was what she would do, because her husband needed her.

She was already sitting at the breakfast table when Alexander walked in. There were hollows under his eyes, but he was immaculately dressed as always, and he appeared completely normal as Jenkins brought in the mail.

Beatrice wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or frustrated that he seemed completely unaffected by finding her in his bed this morning.

Perhaps the nightmares hadn’t affected him as much as they had seemed, other than making him tired. Maybe they had affected Beatrice more than him.

Or maybe he was pretending it didn’t affect him, and he was more rattled than he was letting on. He certainly had enough things to worry about—perhaps finding his wife in his bed didn’t even make the first page of his list of concerns.

It only gave her the determination she needed to focus on the task ahead.

“Alexander,” Beatrice said, catching his attention from the envelope he was opening, “if I was planning to search for a particular subject in the library, is it organized in any particular manner, or should I just start looking?”

Her husband frowned. “I know my mother had a system,” he said, “but she didn’t write it down anywhere, as far as I know, and it would be difficult to guess. If you want my help, I could come and help you look for a little while.”

Beatrice shook her head. “I’m sure you have other things to do. Guinevere and I can manage it.”

“Guinevere is helping you?” he asked.

“Yes,” Beatrice said. “She and I are both interested in discovering a little more about the library.”

With several servants wandering around the dining room as they ate, Beatrice didn’t know what she could say and what she couldn’t, but figured it was probably best to stay vague. Alexander knew what she was talking about, and as far as everyone else was concerned, she was simply being her normal librarian self.

But when she retired to the library with Guinevere after their meal, she had to take a deep breath at the sight of all the books on the shelves. “This is going to take a while,” she said to Guinevere.

The sheer volume of books that had felt like such a gift only last night was suddenly overwhelming. How were they supposed to find a book about magic among the hundreds of books here?

“I know,” Guinevere said with a sigh, “but the good news is there are two of us.”

“You start on that end,” Beatrice said, pointing to the left, “and I’ll start on this end. Perhaps Lady Dunham kept items grouped similarly. Once we find the right section, hopefully, we will find all the books on the topic.”

Guinevere nodded and headed left, and Beatrice went the opposite direction.

She started at the first bookcase, opening each book to read the title and thumb through its pages if she thought it might have anything to do with magic. She would have preferred to read them all, but for now, she contented herself with taking a deep breath of that old book smell.

“Another benefit,” she called to Guinevere, “is that by the end of this, I should know what books we have in the library.”

“I’m surprised you’re not cataloging them,” Guinevere said with a grin. “Isn’t that what librarians do?”

Beatrice sighed. “Yes, it is. And unfortunately, that is a task I should like to accomplish at some point, but we don’t have the time to do it now. So we’ll have to go back through a second time.”

“And I’m sure you will love every moment of it,” Guinevere said.

Beatrice smiled and returned to looking through the books.

If she weren’t searching for something that had completely turned her world upside down in the past twelve hours, she would have enjoyed this task. But the idea that she and her husband were in danger and she knew nothing about it didn't make for a very enjoyable search.

After nearly two hours of work and finding absolutely nothing related to magic, Beatrice grew fatigued. The thought of continuing to sort for another few hours without any progress was discouraging. “I think I might take a walk,” she told Guinevere. “Some time to clear my head would be helpful, and I think I will be better off for it.”

“That sounds like a great decision,” Guinevere said. “I will keep looking, unless you want me to accompany you.”

“No, no,” Beatrice said. “I have some thinking to do about everything that’s happened.”

“That’s understandable,” Guinevere said with a smile. “Would you like help with your cloak?”

“I am capable, but thank you.”

Beatrice left the library and made her way to the front door. She was a little surprised that Jenkins didn’t instantly appear, but he was probably helping Alexander somewhere.

Beatrice opened the wardrobe and reached for her cloak, fastening it around her shoulders before slipping out the front door and setting off to the south, toward town. It was a route she was familiar with, and she knew she could find her way back to the manor, unlike the north, where she had no idea where things were.

She didn’t need to get lost on her first foray out as Lady Dunham.

She made her way toward town slowly, not interested in exerting herself overly, but very interested in thinking through everything that had happened in the past three days.

Had it really only been three days?

How had her life changed so quickly?

She walked for maybe fifteen minutes before the wind began to pick up, and she turned toward the forest to the west, hoping for a little more shelter from the wind.

Dark shadows began to cover the land, and she looked up at the sky. The light cover of clouds that had been there when she left the estate had grown into one massive dark cloud that threatened snow.

The wind picking up had been a warning, and her thoughts had been racing too fast to heed it.

Beatrice turned around and began making her way back to the manor quickly. Could she make it back before the snow started?

She stuck close to the trees, hoping for some protection from the snow as light flakes began to fall.

Until there was a crashing sound in the underbrush, and a dark form that was suspiciously bear-shaped bolted past her.

Her heart beating furiously in her chest, she veered away from the trees.

There was no use in avoiding the snow if she got eaten by a bear.

The snow began to fall faster, and her visibility decreased. Beatrice picked up her pace. If she had been wearing fewer layers, she might have attempted to run. She knew the way back to Eldenwilde, but if the visibility got bad, she didn’t want to miss the estate and get lost.

She had to make it back before the storm got worse.