7. Chapter 7
7
BEATRICE
During my final spring as her nanny, Eddi was so busy riding and training her father’s flying racehorses that she’d chosen to delay our yearly Faraway Castle holiday. I knew this was mainly because her current crush would arrive at the resort just before the annual Midsummer Ball, but she also wanted to be at the resort for the annual Faraway Castle Cup flying-horse race, traditionally held the closing weekend of the summer season. The schedule change would give me extra time with the Gamekeeper, so I wasn’t about to complain.
That summer unfolded into my happiest yet. Boy-chasing, group events, and chaperoned mountain treks kept Eddi preoccupied, leaving me far more time to myself—time that I spent with the Gamekeeper whenever he was available. He and I discussed world events, history, politics, theology, and many profound life questions on a far deeper level than I’d ever experienced at school or found in books. Despite his vastly greater knowledge of the world, he never once belittled my ideas, and he always encouraged me to keep seeking Truth.
As our relationship deepened, my curiosity about him grew. Who was he, really? Other than generating the magical foundation of the resort and chatting with me, what did he do ? Where did he live? Did he have a family? Exactly what manner of being was he? I desperately wanted to know, but as the days and weeks ticked past, I never worked up the nerve to ask him even one of those pressing questions. Unfailingly kind though he was, he maintained a quiet dignity that discouraged personal inquiries.
On Thursday of the summer’s final week, while preparations for the fête and race day transformed the playing fields into semi-organized chaos, the Gamekeeper and I took a stroll through the topiary garden and unexpectedly encountered the Head Gardener, Rosa, talking to a few of her magical shrubs. “Oh, pardon me,” I said and started to turn away. But at the Gamekeeper’s rare touch on my arm, I stopped short.
When Rosa’s face lit up, I realized she could see—or sense—the Gamekeeper. “Good morning, Gamekeeper and Miss Beatrice,” she said with a bright smile. “Flora and I are making our morning rounds.” The rosebush at her side appeared to sit upright like a dog, wagging one leafy branch, and just behind it, a large holly shrub trimmed into the shape of a bear rustled while shifting its weight from side to side.
My jaw dropped.
“Good morning.” The Gamekeeper’s greeting held amusement. “Have you never seen Rosa’s animated shrubs and topiaries before, Beatrice?”
I slammed my mouth shut, mumbled, “Oh, um, good morning,” and gave my head a quick shake. “I . . . I’ve heard about them.” My voice squeaked.
“Today I brought honey for Teddy.” Rosa held it up. “You can watch him eat it if you like.”
When I did my best to smile, Rosa offered a small jar of honey to the shrub, which accepted it with bushy paws and upturned it over a gap that appeared in its leafy face. I watched in fascination as honey vanished into the bush, which then handed the jar back to Rosa.
For some inexplicable reason, a honey-eating shrub amazed me more than winged horses or cinder sprites or the Gamekeeper himself. How could a plant have a personality?
“Earlier this summer, these two shrubs and many others helped Rosa and Prince Briar save Faraway Castle, and the rest of the world, from the evil sleeping Princess Zafira of Evora.” The Gamekeeper’s voice held deep approval.
Part of that statement shocked me out of my stupor. “Prince Briar?”
I sensed the Gamekeeper’s amusement. “Not many people are aware that Geoff Bryant, our Magical Creature Controller, is Prince Briar of Auvers in disguise. He and Rosa are training to take over the overall maintenance and security at Faraway Castle when I retire.”
“They are?” I paused, then blurted, “Wait. Retire? You?”
Rosa gave me a curious glance. Heat rushed into my face.
“Not anytime soon, but it’s good to have backup prepared.” His calm tone defused the tension. “We’ll get out of your way now, Rosa.”
I retained awareness enough to mumble something like a farewell before we walked on. Too many revelations all at once! The concept of the world’s most eligible (and arguably best-looking) bachelor’s working in disguise at Faraway Castle was surprising, for sure, but my mind had snagged hard on the concept of the Gamekeeper’s being old enough to retire. I’d always thought of him as near my age. He couldn’t possibly be retirement age. I would know. Or would I?
“Please keep Prince Briar’s identity a secret,” the Gamekeeper requested, his voice calm and deep. “You are now one of very few ‘in the know,’ as they say.”
I nodded. “I hope I didn’t offend Rosa.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I . . . well, I’ve always had difficulty relating to people my age.”
“You needn’t worry. She’s introverted too.”
I kept talking as if he hadn’t spoken. “Life is easier now that I’m an adult. Not even Raquel Cambout and Lady Gillian Montmorency pick on me directly anymore—they’ve been the ‘Mean Girls’ of Faraway Castle for years now.”
“Every generation seems to produce a few of those. Most grow out of it eventually.”
“For Eddi’s sake, I hope those two grow out of it soon. They used to drive her crazy. And then there’s Prince Max the Malevolent, as Eddi calls him, who believes he complimented me by stating what a pity it is that I’m neither royal nor titled, so I have no hope of gaining his interest.” I pulled a “gag me” face that made the Gamekeeper chuckle, which only encouraged my prattle. “Most of the time I feel like a sidekick, or like the ‘Wise Old Woman’ side-character in other people’s stories.”
“Hardly the worst of roles,” the Gamekeeper said, his tone gently playful. “Consider its acronym: WOW .”
I couldn’t prevent a surprised chuckle from escaping before I protested, “But I’m serious! Eddi says I bypassed youth and rushed straight into middle age.”
I wanted him to protest, and he didn’t fail me. “As if Eddi would know.” But when he spoke again, that note of humor had fled: “True wisdom is a rare treasure in this world.”
My bubble of happiness fizzled. “I don’t feel wise at all. Any wisdom I might have, I’ve learned the hard way.”
“Which is far superior to never learning it at all. Not one of us is born wise.”
“So, wisdom comes with experience?”
“Not necessarily. Wisdom comes only with a hefty dose of humility.” His voice sounded deeper, somehow heavier than usual. “Many people seek knowledge and power, but few desire wisdom once they realize what it requires.”
I didn’t know what to make of this, so I diverted the conversation to the impending end of our summer season. “Every year, I wish I might stay here forever, but the days and weeks tick past far too quickly, each more precious than the last. I suppose this will be our last time together this summer. But maybe I’ll see you in December, if Eddi chooses to attend Christmas Camp again.”
“I cannot meet you tomorrow, but I’ll be free again Saturday morning before the big Cup race.”
Happiness flooded through me. “Won’t you be occupied with security?”
“They don’t need me for that.”
“Same time as today?”
“Sounds perfect.” His voice was a happy rumble.
I reached for where I thought his arm must be and tucked my hand into its crook. He was quite tall, I knew, and his sleeve was warm. I felt his power, physical and magical, and for the moment I could pretend he was my sweetheart. Even if someone saw me extending my arm in a strange position while I strolled, they would never guess why.
I knew this happiness must soon end, as it always did, but I was determined to spend every possible minute in his company.
Arabella
Just as I settled down for an afternoon nap (at my age, I’m entitled), Pukai popped into my hermit hideout, looking even more irritated than usual and quite glamorous in red satin. “How can you sleep at a time like this?”
“A time like what? I don’t enjoy crowds and couldn’t care less about flying-horse races,” I grumbled, peering up at her from under my forearm.
She huffed. “Do you know that the royal idiot went for a stroll with your great-great-grandniece this morning? What is he waiting for?”
I sat upright, still mentally fuzzy. “They walk together nearly every day.”
“Not arm-in-arm like a courting couple, they don’t.”
This was news. “Hmm. What if he asked and she turned him down? How would we know? You should have notified me sooner. Did you see what happened or only hear about it?”
“I didn’t know until I received a message from Tasha, one of the gardener dwarves—”
“I know who Tasha is,” I grouched. “What did she say?”
Pukai seemed to grow two inches in an instant. “If you’ll stop being rude, I might tell you.”
I scowled. “Fine.”
“Tasha saw the Gamekeeper and Beatrice chatting with Rosa, and then they walked on together, arm-in-arm. Tasha has suspected for years that Beatrice is sweet on him, but this time she seemed certain.”
I swung my feet to the floor. “Why would she suspect that? And why would she send you a message? You haven’t told her about . . .”
“I’ve never said a word about it,” Pukai snapped. “She’s just a romantic. And our time is running out, Bella. What is that fool waiting for?”
“Guess I’d better talk to him and find out,” I sighed.
When I arrived in the topiary garden, the Gamekeeper was pacing like a caged . . . well, what he is. He barely glanced up when I appeared.
“I figured you’d come.” He sighed. “I promise I’ll ask her Saturday morning, Bella. Today, I just . . . I couldn’t. And tomorrow my schedule is packed from dawn to midnight. Briar and Rosa will take over on Saturday, so I can spend the day with her.”
“Faint heart never won—”
“Quoting proverbs won’t help me,” he growled. “And I’m well aware of torn-off calendar pages and ticking clocks.”
“We placed no limit on the number of proposals—”
“If I keep asking after she turns me down, she’ll view me as a stalker.”
“Or maybe she’ll appreciate your persistence.”
He gave me a look, his lip curled.
“This isn’t only about you! You know what will happen if you fail. Are you willing to risk everything for your pride’s sake?”
“No.” His reply, though muted, shook the ground I stood upon. “I will ask her.” He heaved a deep sigh. “As many times as it takes . . . until I die.”
“You can’t die. Not until we’ve righted this wrong. We’re in this together, we three.”
He nodded, his shaggy head lowered. “I won’t let you down.”
“Or her,” I emphasized.
“Beatrice doesn’t need me.” His voice sounded choked.
“We all need you, lunkhead.”