Beauty and the Werewolf

“First, get me out of this thing,” she demanded, and Sapphire hastened to do so. Once the offending gown had been discarded onto the bed with the others, and Bella was back to wearing something she could actually don and remove without help, she showed Sapphire exactly what she didn’t like about the new wardrobe, and how her old clothing was better.

“Did Sebastian summon an entire ducal household when he started bringing you here? Because that would include several seamstresses.”

“Just called servants.” Well, that matched what Sebastian himself had told her, that he had just summoned the creatures without being specific about their talents.

“I rather like lace, but not in places where it is bound to trail on the floor and get filthy, or get caught on things. Why are there more of you than Sebastian remembers summoning?” she asked, at the same time pointing out the long lace ruffles on a petticoat and a sleeve cuff. She had the feeling that she was not succeeding in being subtle, but Sapphire didn’t seem to notice.

“He neded us. We came” was the reply.

“I don’t see any reason why this can’t be made to fasten up the front with buttons instead of lacing up the back,” she said, laying one of her own bodices beside the one with the back-lacing. “You see what I mean, here. This is how I like my bodices to fasten. How did you know Sebastian needed you?”

“We wached him.” The new bodice levitated into the air and was turned around and around in Sapphire’s invisible hands.

“And this overskirt. Two ruffles are fine, elegant even. But no one my age looks anything but ridiculous in a gown with a dozen ruffles to it. Why were you watching Sebastian?” Sapphire didn’t answer that one, so Bella acted as if the answer didn’t matter, and continued on. “And this…this is just horrid. I don’t know if it can be picked to bits and the pieces reused, but the only thing that anyone could do in this overdone monstrosity is to sit and look ornamental. How did you all get here, if you weren’t summoned?”

“Wer alredy here.” Abruptly, Sapphire left the room. Before Bella could wonder if she had pushed the invisible too far, Sapphire returned with several more ribbons trailing behind her: white, pink, pale blue, mint-green and lilac. Within moments, the discarded gowns and petticoats were sailing out the door, presumably to be altered. But since Sapphire went with them, that was an end to Bella’s questioning for now.

It certainly gave her something to think about. So, the extra invisibles were somehow “already here,” and had been watching Sebastian. She had the distinct feeling that the intelligent ones were all in that set. And they had insinuated themselves into the household because Sebastian needed them.

All of these conclusions only opened up more questions. Where had they come from before they were “here”? Could they actually be ghosts, the spirits of former inhabitants of Redbuck? Was that even possible? The only ghosts that she had ever heard of were hardly the helpful creatures that these were — nor were they even a fraction so physical. If they weren’t ghosts, then what were they? Some sort of nature spirit? Something else entirely? The familiars of other magicians who had failed to release them when the magician died? How could she possibly tell?

She went to her desk, made notes, wrote down all of her questions and drummed her fingers on the desk as she thought. Godmother should have noticed if these were familiars, she wrote. Unless Godmother hasn’t been here herself since Sebastian changed. Something else to ask about. But I would think that even Sebastian would have noticed if they were someone else’s familiars, wouldn’t he?

I still don’t know enough about magic, she decided. But of course, there was someone here who did, and he wasn’t at all reluctant to discuss anything about magic. Sebastian would probably welcome questions, she thought, with a little amusement. I probably won’t be able to get him to stop once he starts talking.

The problem was, just at the moment, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to know these things. I need to think very carefully how I am going to phrase these questions, she decided, as she gathered up the items of clothing that hadn’t been carried off, and put them back in the closet. It looked very bare in there now — not only because about half the clothing that had been hanging in there was gone, but because the items removed had taken up so much room.

She stretched, feeling ever so much more comfortable now that she was in one of her old, practical gowns. Genevieve is right, she thought with ironic resignation. I am never going to be a proper lady. I will never choose style over comfort.

But the thought of her stepmother gave her pause — not because she was in the least afraid of what Genevieve was saying or doing right now, but because these past few days were the first in a very long time when she hadn’t been responsible for anyone but herself. When she wasn’t trying to fight down the fear of what she might become…it had been rather nice. If the Godmother was right, and she wasn’t infected, in three months time she would be back at home again, and —

And after this, how can I ever settle into a life like hers? I already loathed gossip and gowns, and now…I am not sure I could ever just go back to supervising a household, not when I’ve seen all this. Which means that Genevieve is right again; no one is going to propose marriage to someone like me. Men want a wife who fits into society, and I am always going to be a little outside of it. Or perhaps, a great deal outside it. And if anyone ever finds out what really happened to me, would I become some sort of freakish thing, someone that people whisper about and wonder about?

So what was she going to do with herself when she got back?

She sat on the edge of the bed abruptly. Given what she had just gone through so far, simply remaining the odd spinster who stayed unwedded and made sure that her father’s household ran smoothly did not seem so bad… There was a great deal to be said for not being afraid you were going to become a vicious killer, or be hunted down by your former friends and acquaintances. And if people talked about her, so what? It wasn’t as if she craved all those invitations that came to the household. Granny would still treat her the same.

Who knows? If I am eccentric enough, that might actually be a good thing. Eccentric people are often looked to for advice if they are wise enough. It might be good for business if I were to ask Father to set me up as an herbseller. And it would give Genevieve plenty to talk about, too, and she might leave the twins to grow into their own selves instead of little copies of her.

She wasn’t entirely sure she would still be able to suffer Genevieve’s more ridiculous excesses in silence anymore, however. And that could cause more than a few household tremors.

Oh…but will peace and quiet make up for all the things I know about now, all operating madly beneath the surface, things that people don’t even suspect? There was another thing; now she had