Chapter 3
ELLA
MAIER MANOR
Acold shiver curls down my spine as Dr. Wissen saunters out the front door like he already owns the place. His words felt like threats. Jesse, my personal maid, rushes into the room, panting, eyes wild.
“Ella!” she exclaims. “There’s a problem.”
“What now?” I rub my forehead.
“There are men in the fields. The birds are attacking them.”
I sigh. The birds on the estate have been known to be vicious. “I’ll take care of them.”
In the kitchen, I grab my basket of day-old bread. As I march outside, I wonder what else could possibly go wrong. The wind snaps at my long golden hair and whips my skirts against my legs. Shouts and cawing fill the air. Wings and claws, black feathers of the darkest night circle Mother’s tree.
I hurry, clutching my basket tighter.
The whirlwind of black-feathered ravens with dagger-like beaks dive at the men. One hunkers beneath his cloak at the tree’s base while the other fights back, slashing at his attackers with a silver blade. Each move is fluid and precise like he battles monsters in his sleep.
“Need a hand?” I call out.
The man with the sword startles, eyes flicking to me. They’re stormy blue like an approaching thunderhead on the horizon. “Unless you can cast a spell on these demons, I’m a bit occupied.”
“Afraid I can’t help there. But I have breadcrumbs.”
I toss a handful to the ground. Instantly, the birds abandon their prey, scrambling to peck at the snack happily. The man lowers his weapon and tilts his head with a look of disbelief.
“If I didn’t know better,” he says, “I’d think this death flock were your pets.”
Dark hair clings to his forehead in damp waves, tight breeches are tucked into spurred boots, and his tunic is torn across one shoulder, exposing a line of muscle I try not to look at.
Try being the key word.
“Sometimes food speaks louder than the sword.” I throw him a smirk and toss another handful of crumbs to the ground.
His lips curve. “In the future, I must remember to travel with snacks.”
“Do you always trespass when traveling?”
“We were being chased by wolves.” He sheathes his sword and steps closer. “I thought it was odd they didn’t follow us onto your property. Now, I see why.”
“Chased by wolves?” I scan the perimeter to spot dark forms melding into the forest. I shove down my fear. They’re venturing into these parts of the forest now. “Seems as if you like to cause trouble everywhere you go.”
“So it appears.” There’s a glint of playfulness in his eyes.
“Speak for yourself,” the smaller man mutters, finally daring to emerge from beneath his cloak. A long, shaggy white beard hangs from his chin, and wrinkles fill every inch of his face. A few tufts of hair poke out of his balding head. “I was minding my own business.”
“We are terribly sorry to disrupt your—” The larger man waves at the birds now perched in the trees as if he’s trying to think of a name for them.
“Pets,” the smaller man supplies with a grin, displaying numerous missing teeth. He glances worriedly above his head where the seven ravens now perch, eyeing him with disapproving looks. “Such sweet little birds.”
“They’re not my pets, nor particularly sweet,” I say. “But they do well to protect our lands from intruders. And you are?”
“Jacob Grimm,” he says with a bow, “and this here is um…Otto, at your service.”
Blood drips from Jacob’s neck and ears. Guilt spears me. The birds were more vicious than usual.
“I see.” I nod politely, flinching as Jacob wipes blood from his earlobe with his handkerchief. “I insist my servants bring you water to freshen up before you continue your journey.”
“We’re actually on our way to the village of Honau, where my brother is setting up a new bookshop as we speak,” Jacob explains, checking something in his bag. “Just show us the road to the village, and we’ll be out of your way.”
“I’m headed there myself.” I bite my lip, guilt tugging at me. Both travelers are bleeding from my birds just a hand’s throw from my mother’s grave. She’d be horrified if I turned them away without offering help. “Please, I insist on getting you some bandages. Then you can follow me to town.”
The two bow again and head to where the servants are prepping my carriage. The ravens squawk from above as I start off. Spinning around, I fist my hands on my hips.
“You could’ve seriously hurt them,” I lecture the creatures as if they can understand me.
“What if they’d been killed? I have enough problems to deal with.
Father’s never coming back, the servants are leaving, and I have a full crop with no one to harvest. An impossible job, and yet somehow, I must perform a miracle. ”
The ravens cock their heads to the side, staring blandly at me, while a bluebird bursts into song. Rolling my eyes, I chuckle only to spot a handkerchief on the grass. I pick it up to find a G sewn onto it. G for Grimm.
“Do those birds truly understand you, Ella?” Jesse calls out from where she’s waiting just ahead. She, along with the entire staff, refuses to come close to the tree.
“Good heavens, no. But it would be grand, wouldn’t it? Mother used to talk to them. I suppose I picked up the habit.”
I glance over my shoulder as the ravens take flight across the fields. Jesse has a point. They do have a knowing look in their eyes. Or maybe it’s me wishing someone understood the pain that still knifes at my soul ever since Mother left, even if they’re just birds.