Elle waited as Emele collected herself. She placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder, making the maid smile.
I came from a good, middle class family, Emele wrote. My father is a well-to-do horse breeder, and my mother served as a ladies maid in her younger days. My family hoped I would marry well, especially after I secured a post in Severin’s house where I would be exposed to his sister—the Princess—and assumedly whatever lady he chose to marry. I, Emele hesitated before she wrote. I was beautiful.
“You still are,” Elle said.
Emele shook her head. Only you would think that. Before the curse I was aware of my social standing. I scorned Marc and the servants below me. I thought that I was better than them, and I mocked Marc behind his back for his looks and mannerisms.
Emele looked up at the sky and deeply inhaled the cold air before she wrote again. And then we were cursed. I lost my beauty, the beaus who had been pursuing me all removed their suits, and my family disowned me. They first came to the palace to see if it was true. When they saw me…
“But it wasn’t your fault,” Elle objected. “The curse fell on you because you were a member of Severin’s household, and he didn’t do anything to deserve it.”
My parents feared what having a cursed daughter would do to their social standing. When they came we fought. My father moved to strike me and Marc—whom I had mocked and looked down upon—heard my parents’ yells and stepped in on my behalf.
Elle adjusted her crutches. “That was honorable of him.”
Emele soundlessly laughed as she tried to brush a frozen tear from her eyelashes. Honorable, kind, compassionate, and chivalrous of him. I was a selfish girl who had done nothing but mock him, and he saved me. The ladies maid hesitated for a moment. I know Marc would not be considered handsome by most, but it is his heart I fell in love with. Beauty fades, but the heart remains the same. And how many men would protect a girl who openly scorned them?
Elle found that she couldn’t speak. The sadness and sweetness of Emele’s story had rendered her speechless.
Physical desire is a lie, Emele continued. It is not a bad thing, but it blinds a person and makes them unable to see truth. Falling in love is a matter of the heart, not of the exterior.
Elle nodded, and Emele waited a long time before writing, What kind of heart do you think His Highness has?
Elle removed her gaze from Emele and stared out at the snow covered gardens. “I’m not sure.”
Emele smiled and cast a longing glance at Marc.
“Why don’t you greet him?” Elle suggested.
Emele clutched her broom and slate close before she nodded and set off down the cleared walkway, heading for the burly gardener.
Elle watched her go, observing the awkward pair interact with new eyes. After a few moments she shifted to look at the chateau. “What kind of heart does Severin have?” Elle wondered. “Before my fall I wouldn’t have hesitated to say cold and uncaring but…,” Elle trailed off as she thought of her new pony, of Severin housing and feeding her even though she was nothing more than a prowler. She remembered the way he allowed Heloise to think her affection for Jock was secret, his obvious sorrow that his servants were doomed to be cursed with him, and that throughout her entire stay he had never expected anything from her and had never touched her with anything but gentleness.
“I don’t know,” Elle repeated.
Everyone at Chanceux Chateau took it for granted that Elle and Severin spent time together, even Elle and Severin.
It was no longer just dinner, but all hours of the day. If Elle wanted to escape Emele and the other giggling maids, or if Severin wanted to work without being forced to read sermons inscribed by his personal valet, the two could be found together.
Amazingly, Elle was able to drag Severin from his study. Servants would find them in the library—Severin would be doing his work at a table while Elle triumphantly walked up and down aisle ways, crutch-less and looking for books—in different salons—Burke once found them playing cards in the recreation salon—the stables were a regular spot—Fidele and Rosemerry had to be brushed after all—and, of course, in the evenings the pair was almost guaranteed to be found in Severin’s study.
They were not together for the day in its entirety. Rather, they spent a few hours together in the morning or early afternoon before eating together and sequestering themselves in the study when it grew late.
A week after Elle’s originally scheduled—and canceled—departure, Severin and Elle spent the morning in the Gold salon, which was used as a music room.
“I always thought the library was the most expensive feature of the chateau. I’m no longer sure,” Elle said, thoughtfully studying a huge harp that was almost as tall as her. Fanned around it—like an arrangement of gold haired children—was an assortment of smaller lap harps.