Beasty (A Royal's Tale Book 2) Page 8

  I enthusiastically smiled before signing back, “It’s nice to meet you! I’m sorry if I scared you there with my screaming. I was just thinking about something, and well, you just…shocked me. That’s all.”

  The alarmed look rushed back into Sophia’s face, and she took a rushed one, two steps forward. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to!”

  I immediately shook my hands before me. “No, no! It’s okay. It happens!”

  Sophia smiled and nodded, turning around to leave as she gave me a small friendly wave.

  I turned towards the heavily set up table then to Sophia who was already a meter away.

  “Hey, Sophia!”

  The girl stopped in her tracks before turning around. Despite the circumstance of how we met, her bright blue eyes shone with innocent curiosity.

  “Do you and the staff think you might wanna join me for dinner? I’m kinda…lonely.”

  The girl’s eyes widened and gesturing with her hands to tell me to wait, she turned around and rushed away, disappearing behind a large pillar.

  “Erm, okay,” I mumbled to myself as I turned around and stepped closer to the chair I had occupied only minutes ago.

  Maybe these staff members will be able to tell me something about Ro—the owner.

  “Where is she?”

  Startled, I turned around to see a large, red-haired woman marching her way towards me, three younger women, probably house cleaners, rushing behind her, their faces bearing the expression of stopping her.

  “You!” She pointed her long finger at me when she stopped a few inches from me. “You can’t just invite the help to sit with you at the dining table! That is most inappropriate!”

  Despite the fear bubbling in me at such bluntness, I frowned, honestly curious. “Says who?”

  “You’re a guest! And it isn’t done! The help cannot sit on the master’s table!”

  Beside her, Sophia seemed to pull her away, tugging at her seams. “Madam, please! She’s a guest!”

  The woman’s bright green eyes blazed as she took a step forward. “Exactly! Exactly why she can’t repeat this mistake ever again,” she exclaimed, flinging her hands up and down in exhaustion.

  I looked down at my feet, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would hurt you people. I was just…lonely. And since you were the only ones I knew who were in the castle, I thought you all wouldn’t…mind…”

  After a minute of no reply for my apology, I looked up, confused at the silence.

  My eyes watched the small group of maids as each clutched her hands to her chest. In front of them the woman whose stormy face and fiery hair seemed to have a soft look on her, too.

  Even so, my heartbeat accelerated when the woman took a step forward. Truth be told, I was still scared.

  Her hand found my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. My eyes widened at the sudden gesture coming from her. “Oh, silly Marsha. Well then, let’s get you into the kitchen then, aye? We’ll have dinner there.”

  Surprised, I looked up at the woman and found her eyes—like Mr. Orik’s—trained on my neck. At that, her smile brightened, and she squeezed my shoulder again.

  “Okay,” I mumbled happily then grabbed a platter as the others began gathering the platters and bowls too. Turning around to Marsha, my smile brightened when I found her looking at me with an expression my mum used to wear when she was proud of Elizabeth and me.

  “Let’s get you fed, girl.”

  The kitchen was probably the largest room I had seen so far, and everything around here looked new—the appliance, the furniture, the kitchenware. But the atmosphere still held the original rustic feel of the late 1800s.

  I had been told by Marsha and the girls that this wasn’t the only kitchen in the castle. In fact, there was another in the central tower, the same place where Master Romanov’s private suite was.

  With my lips lifted into a smile, I dusted off the final crumb off the table and moved towards the dustbin. Dinner had finished half an hour ago, and now we’d assigned ourselves to cleaning the kitchen: Marsha and the girls did the dishes, while I swept the floors and wiped the tables clean.

  “You fit right in, Olivia,” Rose, one of the castle staff, smiled at me, and I grinned back.

  “Maybe Marsha will teach me a dish or two next time?” I giggled as we both winked at each other. By the sink, Marsha let out a loud, excited laugh.

  “Any day, dear.”

  A small yawn slipped out of my mouth, and I instantly smacked my hand over it. In front of me, Sophia let out a yawn of her own. We both sent each other a silent grin.

  “Sophia, why don’t you take Olivia to her room?” Marsha suggested, for which I was grateful. I smiled at her so she’d know.

  “Sure,” she signed as she smiled at me brightly and beckoned me to follow her.

  I turned around and waved at everyone, winking at Rose and smiling at Marsha. “Good night, everybody. See you all tomorrow!”

  The walk up to the second floor was quiet. Of the many renovations done in the castle, they did not make one to replace the staircases. Understandably, as old as this castle was, it wouldn’t be a surprise that elevators weren’t constructed. Although it may have provided efficiency in going from one room to the next, putting one on the castle would only ruin the architecture of its fortresses, leaving the inhabitants in danger. Well, it’s not like the danger lies outside. I shook my head before I could be engulfed with nightmares.

  Whoever took over the taking care of the castle, they did an impressive job. The spiralling stairway stood strong as we made our way up on it. A long, ornate candelabra hung from the centre of the roof from up in the third floor down to the ground floor, illuminating the stairway and giving a very mystical feeling to the castle’s surroundings.

  My bedroom’s door came into view, and curiosity got the best of me again. Shooting Sophia a quick look, I edged closer to her and nudged her gently with my shoulder.

  She turned to me, looking amused.

  “What?” she mouthed and signed at the same time, our slow, leisurely pace allowing her to do both.

  “Is Michael your brother?” I asked, looking at her with an excited grin.

  Her expression brightened, and she nodded excitedly. “Yes! My younger brother! Four years younger.”

  I nodded and exchanged an excited smile of my own. Maybe Sophia and I could be friends while I was here.

  I eyed her secretly while we walked closer to my room, and I wondered how hard it must be for her to work here after all that she had been through. Thinking about that, my spirits sank. The poor girl had a household to handle after all.

  “He’s a good kid. You must be very proud of him.”

  She nodded. “I am.”

  I waited for her to say something about what made her proud of Michael, but she only stayed silent.

  “We’re here.” She smiled brightly and frowned when, as she held the knob to turn it, she noticed that the door was already left ajar.

  I cringed when I realized I had left the door open.

  Stupid.

  Taking a step into my room, I turned to a warm looking Sophia.

  “Can I ask you something?” I mumbled, wondering if I really wanted to ask her about Ro—him.

  “Sure!” she signed, standing there patiently. Her wild black hair flew freely down to her waist.

  “Can you tell me…something about this…Romanov Naight?” I asked, my gaze on the floor, my voice low. Sighing, I looked up at her and saw her smile dull a little. However, her eyes met mine, and she suddenly smiled brightly again.

  “Sure,” she replied with a grin. “Master is still young. Twenty-five, I suppose. He left when he was ten. Didn’t come back until Master Alistair’s tragic demise seven years ago. Until then, he was in America with his cousin Alexander. He studied in Cambridge and graduated in law with honours. And—” Sophie paused and looked at me. “What else do you want to know?”

  Twenty-five…

  The wheels in
my brain turned as I thought over Sophie’s description of Romanov and compared it to Rome. My eyes snapped up to Sophia’s blue ones, and I took a step forward. “How does he…look?”

  I curiously watched Sophia while she hesitated to answer, her fingers entwining together before untangling them and doing it all over again.

  She sighed. “Master is tall—almost six feet. Jet black eyes, straight sharp nose, a firm set of jaw, and hair that falls over his cheekbones. Sometimes he even lets it grow to his shoulder. And he has a—” She stopped. Her eyes widened, alarmed at the information she was about to reveal to a stranger.

  I frowned. Curiosity got the better of me so I asked her, “He has a what?”

  Sophia looked away. “A scar he never lets fade on his back, near his shoulder”

  How does she know?

  “How do you know that?” I blurted out loud. I froze when Sophia turned around, her face red.

  “Rose and I saw him…making sure the scar would stay,” she signed, before looking away.

  The mark on my neck tingled, and I massaged my neck, trying to get rid of the strange feeling. Sensing that this was making Sophie uncomfortable, I decided to change the topic.

  “There are female clothes in the closet,” I quickly signed, my smile back in its place. This seemed to considerably lighten Sophia’s mood.

  She grinned as she shifted her weight from her left leg to her right, her eyes twinkling brightly. “I’m sorry we forgot to move them out. Those belong to Master Romanov’s future bride.”

  My whole world fell into pieces.

  I quickly recovered, pulling up a small smile on my face, then turned to Sophia and smiled at her numbly before mumbling out a small “Oh.”

  Seeming oblivious of my state, she smiled brighter. She signed good night and left the room.

  I waited until I heard the door was shut close behind me. There was a tiny flick, and the sound of the lock echoed into the airy room. Finally, I loudly exhaled, and along with it, all the thoughts that kept running through my mind during my conversation with Sophie.

  There was no mistake. There couldn’t be.

  Romanov Naight, Oakenfield Castle’s lord, great grandson of Julius Naightuitem, and one of my university’s governors was…Beasty.

  My Beasty.

  The same beast who had terrorised my every breathing moment for two months straight. The same beast who had saved me, called me, teased me, and…kissed me.

  The very same Beasty was…engaged.

  A wave of guilt and shame hit me square in the chest as I thought about all the times I tried to force him to stay, to tell me who he was.

  Moving towards the open balcony door, I sank down onto the fluffy white rugs placed on its floors. The chilly night breeze took off some of the heat I felt on my face from the sudden onslaught of humiliation.

  Each time I had pushed him, each time I had demanded answers, not once had I considered that maybe he didn’t want to stay at all, that maybe—

  My mind rushed to the night when he kissed me, and I flinched as the taste of his lips floated back to my senses. I could still taste him.

  I shook my head, ridding myself of those memories. A horrible thought came to my mind.

  An act of sympathy—that was what I had been. And then there I was, demanding he answer and…secretly hoping he would stay.

  I looked away.

  This wasn’t some urban romance of which I was the lead female protagonist. Romanov couldn’t stay. My eyes shifted to the closet. Why would he stay when he was already betrothed to someone?

  Turning my head towards the bed, I sighed as I crawled over and pulled a pillow and blanket down to my spot in the balcony. I arranged everything so it could pass as comfortable, and when it did, I slowly laid myself back down on the soft fluffy rugs.

  With the warm comforter finally snug around me, I turned around and watched the twinkling expanse of the night sky. The distant sound of waves hitting the shore soothed the wrinkles of my troubled mind and soon, I was calm.

  Still, it was difficult. But I was thankful for every revelation today. Before I knew it, the fatigue of it all won, and I fell into the familiar dark abyss of sleep.

  ~

  I woke up the next morning to the calm caresses of the morning breeze against my face. The rug under me felt so soft like fluffs of cloud. The distant sounds of early morning traffic strangely seemed comforting.

  Getting up, I rubbed at my eyes before opening them to look at the beautiful morning sky. The sky was still dark, but it already glowed with the beautiful shade of pink rose.

  Dawn.

  I smiled, feeling completely at ease. And then last night came tumbling back down.

  Romanov…

  I shook my head. “No. No Beasty. No Romanov. No more. I had been selfish ever since the accident, but from today, I will do us both a favour. I will forget about the accident. I will forget him. I will forget everything. I will forget the kiss. The man who saved me deserves to live in peace; he clearly doesn’t want to hang around my life, and I will not make him.”

  I looked at the sky again. The sky was now a painting of red, orange, and purple; the sun had finally risen.

  A new beginning. A new day. I smiled.

  I turned around and walked over to where my suitcase was. The mark on my neck tingled, but I ignored it. First class was at nine, and I had four hours to get there.

  Three hours to spare before I get out of the castle.

  A one-hour drive to the school.

  My mind travelled to the bathroom suite.

  Thirty seconds to get into the bath.

  A small smile played on my lips, and with my towel in my hand, I moved my way towards the bathroom.

  An hour-long shower was in order.

  Chapter 8

  “Soo, ow iz zee castle you live een?”

  I shrugged, an amused smile on my lips as I regarded Madame Crawfort.

  Cashing in another dress, I handed the hotheaded young woman her purchase. She rolled her eyes and walked away, channelling her irritation through the deliberate, loud clickity-clack of her heels. When she was finally out the door, I let out a breath of relief. Finally.

  “It’s beautiful, Madame Crawfort. The scene, the corridors, the halls. The castle’s absolutely from a fairy tale,” I mused as I watched Abigail serving another female customer who was struggling to choose between buying a black or a red pair of lingerie.

  If it were up to me, I’d buy both. The more lingerie, the better. And I didn’t think that because it’s a sure-fire way to attract the attention from the male species. A soft chuckle escaped from my lips when I noticed her eyeing a pair of blue ones now. No, in fact, it was more about the confidence it gives to the wearer, how it made the wearer feel beautiful in her own skin. After all, every girl deserved something pretty, something just for herself.

  “Look at zat! She brought all zree,” Madame Crawfort whispered happily beside me, and I chuckled as I watched the woman approach the counter, her eyes shining with glee. She held all three pairs of lingerie in her hands like they were spoils from a war she had won.

  Placing them on the counter, she grinned at me and Madame Crawfort and said, “My husband is going to love these!”

  “Oh, e vill. I am sure ov eet.” Madame Crawfort giggled, plopping another bonbon into her mouth as she leaned back and enjoyed the crazy traffic in the boutique today. I did my end and punched the items, received the payment, bagged them, and handed it to the customer. With a smile expressing raw anticipation, the woman rushed out of the boutique’s door.

  Madame Crawfort and I watched her go. She then turned towards me. “’Ow you zink zat zee castle iz fit for a fairy tale I do not knoo, but I do know von zing: zat castle is cursed, and ze only zing you vill get vout of eet…are nightmares.”

  I shuddered as I pondered over what the Frenchwoman had just said. Madame Crawfort did have a point. Maybe there was a need to believe all the stories about the castle. How else would t
he stories live on to this day if they were just made up?

  If werewolves were real, why not ghosts? Why not everything else?

  Then the awful truth dawned on me.

  Anything was possible.

  “Ooow! Zeez bonbons are noot right for my stomach. I vill be back,” Madame Crawfort suddenly whispered before rushing towards the back. I needed not be told where she’d went.

  I turned to look at the packet of bonbon. Nearly empty.

  “That woman just doesn’t know when to stop.”

  My eyes snapped to the person who spoke up, and I grinned at Abigail. “That’s true, I admit.”

  “Today’s morning lecture was worthless. I barely got half an hour of its information in my brain before my mind started going off somewhere,” Abigail shared.

  Nodding, I slumped further into my seat.

  “Is Jaydin going home for the holidays?” I asked and did a sweep of the boutique with my eyes. The rest of the staff were serving the onslaught of customers.

  Abigail shook her head as she leaned against the front counter. “No. He’ll stay in Chillston Manor. Professor Heirnzberg’s going to Scotland for a vacation, so he’ll have the place to himself. And that creepy butler he keeps talking about.”

  I cringed. “It’s always the butlers.”

  Suddenly, Abigail tensed, and I cocked an eyebrow up, waiting for her to crack and just blurt it out. Finally, she spoke, “You remember that time when we were under the willow tree? I was going to tell you something that day.”

  My eyes widened as I remembered she did want to tell me something that day then Jaydin interrupted. I smiled then nodded. “Yeah, I remember. So, what is it?”

  Abigail gulped as she looked down at the counter before looking back at me. “Well, I wanted to tell you that…Olivia, I’m—”

  “I am backkkkk! Woo! Zat vas some-zing! I feel so mooch better now!” Madame Crawfort exclaimed.

  Abigail let out a loud breath and quickly turned around before I could even stop her. She manoeuvred her way through the growing crowd of customers and approached those who needed some assistance.