10. Charlotte
Pulling the blankets firmly over her head, Charlotte lay there, trembling from head to toe. Her breath rasped in and out, the only sound in the heavy silence. She strained to hear footfalls, but the lush carpet absorbed any sound that might have reached her ears.
“Is…is someone there?” she mustered the courage to say, just as something tugged at the blanket.
For a second she feared it was being pulled off her entirely, and she gripped it harder. But it was merely rippling as someone touched the far side of it.
The mattress dipped slightly as someone climbed in beside her, although the size of the bed meant they were still out of reach of her arm. She scrambled away, nearly falling out of the bed before soft words made her freeze.
“Wait,” the voice said. “I won’t hurt you.”
It was a deep voice, masculine and commanding, but it still had an edge of youth, and she would have guessed its owner to be only a few years older than herself. Strangest of all, the sound of it, although unfamiliar, filled her with the same sense of safety she always felt in the presence of the white bear.
Even so, she couldn’t possibly accept the current situation.
“This is my bedchamber, sir!” she exclaimed, putting as much indignation as she could into her voice without making it waver. Better to show this stranger anger than fear. “This is my bed! You cannot be here!”
She remained poised on the edge of the mattress, ready to leap out if he came any closer. But there was no movement from his side, just words that carried a disconcerting layer of amusement.
“I think even the strictest matron would find it acceptable for a bride and groom to sleep beside one another on their wedding night.”
“What?” Charlotte gasped. “What are you saying?”
“I am your husband,” he said with more solemnity. “I am Henry in my true form.”
“You’re human?” Charlotte asked, dizzied. Part of her wanted to protest that it couldn’t be true, but this latest shocking revelation was no more extraordinary than anything else that had happened to her in the last twenty-four hours.
“Yes, I am human,” the voice that apparently belonged to her husband said. “I was once quite an ordinary human, in fact. But now I’m under an enchantment. At night I am allowed my true form, but during the day I become a white bear.”
“You should have said as much!” Charlotte cried, and he was silent for a moment.
“That too is part of the enchantment,” he said at last. “I cannot speak of my enchantment while in my bear form. I thought you would know of it anyway, however. From certain things your father said, he seemed aware of such enchantments.”
Charlotte wanted to protest hotly, but the words died in her mouth. Her father had been so insistent that the bear was a person, and Master Harold had spoken of secrets that couldn’t be shared. Clearly her father knew something—something he had been sworn to secrecy over.
“What is your business with the valley folk?” she asked, some of her anger at her father’s secrets tingeing her voice. “What do they know of you?”
“Nothing,” Henry said. “Your family is the first I ever talked to there. Whatever your father knows of my enchantment, he didn’t learn it from me.”
Charlotte frowned, but it was too late to pry the truth out of her father or Master Harold now. She felt the bed shift slightly and tensed, but Henry stilled again.
“In truth, I don’t like to speak of my enchantment anyway,” he said in a low voice. “It is because of my own foolishness that I’ve found myself in this situation, and though I hope to gain my freedom again, I cannot guarantee it. Even if I had been free to do so, I don’t know if I would have spoken to you of my true identity. I needed a wife of strength and courage, and I didn’t want to marry someone under false pretenses. After all, it is possible I’ll spend our whole marriage as a bear.”
“Except at night,” Charlotte said softly, glad for the darkness that hid the warmth in her cheeks. Henry had promised her a legal marriage and nothing more, but now it turned out he became a man at night, and he had come here to her bed. Was he expecting a proper marriage between them after all?
“Don’t worry,” Henry said, once again picking up on her emotions. “There are other reasons for my silence. The same reasons that bring me here to this room. But while there are things I can’t fully explain to you yet, I meant the promises I made. All I ask is for you to accept my presence beside you at night. I will not harm you, and neither will I impose any further upon you. You may go all day without seeing my bear form if you wish, and we can sleep side by side in silence at night. I ask only for you to stay true to the promises you have made and to endure it.”
Charlotte let out a relieved breath. There was no doubt the request was strange. But was there anything about the entire affair that hadn’t been strange?
Even the bed they slept in was large enough that two could occupy it without ever coming into contact. It occurred to her that the size of the bed hadn’t been a mistake by the bell, after all. Apparently her husband had gifted her the use of the silver bell, but ultimately it still belonged to him and obeyed the parameters he had set.
She wished Henry could have explained it to her ahead of time, but she couldn’t help but soften now she knew he had done his best to consider her comfort despite the oddness of the situation. Touched to once again see the signs of her new husband’s consideration, Charlotte spoke, her voice coming out quiet and shy.
“I thank you for your kindness, and I have no desire for you to stay away from me or to stay silent. I’m sure I should be lonely if you were to disappear.” She gathered her courage. “In fact, if you give me a moment, I will relight the candles. I should like to see your true face, and we will be more comfortable talking with a little light.”
“No!” he said so sharply that Charlotte started and nearly fell out of the bed. “You can never turn on the light. You will find, in fact, that you cannot. None of the candles or fires here will permit such a request.”
Heavy silence wrapped around the room for nearly a full minute before Henry sighed.
“I’m sorry. I know this is a strange marriage, and I have done little to earn your trust. But I must ask that you give it to me anyway.”
Charlotte lay there, her heart beating erratically in her chest. She couldn’t even see his face? He did ask a lot.
And yet, did he really? So far, he had met every promise he had made. If she had carried different expectations, that was her error, not his. He had given her a vast mansion for a home and even gifted her the use of a godmother object that would grant her every whim.
And in return, he asked only that she allow him to sleep in the same room as her at night without the comfort of illumination. Technically, they shared a bed, but it felt wrong to think of it that way when he lay so far away. She could thrash around in her sleep, or even reach for him on purpose, and she wouldn’t make contact.
No, his demands were strange, but not onerous. As her husband, he could have expected far more and provided less.
“I don’t understand,” she said at last. “But I can accept it.” She hesitated. “You said you can’t explain the situation to me yet. Does that mean one day you will?” Once I have gained your trust, she added in her head.
“If you will trust in me, it will be a greater gift than any I have been given,” he said, not quite answering her question.
She sighed quietly. He had said he couldn’t give further explanations, and obviously he meant it. Was the enchantment physically restraining him from speaking? At least one of her cousin’s stories had included something of that nature.
Silence fell between them again, but it was laced with awkwardness, and Charlotte couldn’t imagine sleeping in such a strained environment.
But just as her nerves were stretching taut, Henry laughed. A rich chuckle that pulled an answering smile from her, although she didn’t know the source of his amusement.
“I know I said we could lie here in silence,” he said, “but I didn’t realize it would be so awkward. And yet, somehow, the harder I try, the less I can think of anything to say.”
Charlotte laughed. “I’m glad it’s not just me. I used to have an invisible friend, you know, but I’ve never had a stranger for a husband nor conducted any conversation in the pitch dark.”
“An invisible friend?” he asked with another chuckle. “I didn’t picture you as a fanciful child.”
“Oh, she wasn’t imaginary,” Charlotte said calmly. “She was just invisible, although not to children. Of course that meant the adults all assumed she was imaginary, so you can guess how infuriating that was. But I’m sure my imagination couldn’t produce someone like Daisy.” She laughed again.
“You were friends with Princess Daisy?” Henry asked, clearly shocked. But after a moment, he added, “I suppose you would have been the right age. But I didn’t realize you used to live in Northhelm.”
“You know Daisy?” Charlotte asked in even greater astonishment. How did a man cursed to spend his days in the mountains in the form of a bear come to know a princess from across the sea?
“Not personally,” he said hurriedly. “But I’ve heard the stories, of course.”
“Oh, of course.” Charlotte relaxed. “I suppose half the Four Kingdoms have heard the tale by now. It’s a strange thought, even if I don’t feature in the tale by name.”
“I’m surprised the valley isn’t abuzz about having a celebrity in their midst,” Henry said, and she thought she could hear a smile in his voice.
“My sisters didn’t like me to talk about it,” Charlotte said heavily. “They didn’t take it well when Daisy’s true identity was revealed.”
“Because she was more your friend than theirs?” Henry asked shrewdly. “And they didn’t like that she turned out to be someone important?”
Charlotte nodded, only to remember he couldn’t see her. “Yes, that was part of it. And beyond that…” She hesitated, loathe to reveal the extent of her sisters’ behavior.
“You can tell me,” he said in a gentle voice. “I’m your husband now, so you don’t need to hold back any of your story. Your past is safe with me.”
Lying beside him, she realized he was already far more her husband than she had ever thought he could be. She had already pledged her life to him, so why would she withhold her past? She finished the thought she had held in.
“It wasn’t just that I was closer to Daisy,” she said. “Once Elizabeth and Odelia grew too old to see her, they sided with the adults, pretending they had never seen her at all and she was just a game I played with the younger children.”
“They wanted to make you look foolish,” Henry said with unexpected savagery in his voice. “Because even then they could see that you would outshine them both.”
“I never wanted to believe that was the reason,” Charlotte said softly, “but…” Given everything that had happened in the years since, it seemed almost certain. “It’s a difficult time in those years between childhood and adulthood,” she said softly. “We all make foolish choices we regret later.”
“You’re kinder to them than I would be,” Henry said, still with that note in his voice.
It made her shiver, and she was once again glad he couldn’t see her. Not that she was afraid of him. It was her own responses she feared. She was pleased enough at the way he leaped to her defense that she felt guilty.
She should try harder to understand her sisters, not delight in hearing them disparaged. But she couldn’t help her pleasure at Henry’s support. For some reason he seemed to genuinely care about how she was treated. Not since Daisy’s friendship so many years ago had Charlotte had someone so actively on her side.
The cold, empty castle had frightened her, promising a future far different than what she had been imagining. But now Henry’s words reminded her that she hadn’t married him because of the Palace of Light. That had merely been an exciting possibility. She had married him because she wanted a place—a family—where there was space for her.
And here, lying in the darkness with a bodiless voice that burned in outrage on her behalf, she had found that sense of belonging.
“Goodnight, Lottie,” Henry whispered, the unfamiliar nickname seeming to slip out without him realizing.
“Goodnight, Henry,” she whispered back, his name comfortable on her lips for the first time.
The silence that fell between them no longer felt awkward or tense. Instead, it was filled with warmth and connection. She couldn’t see the man who had become her husband that day, but she could feel his unquestioning support. It cradled her in a feeling of comfort and security that enabled her to sleep as peacefully as she had ever done in her own bed.
But when she awoke, daylight glowed around the edges of the curtains, and the long stretch of bed beside her was empty and cold.