Chapter 28
ELLA
MAIER MANOR
The moment Jacob leaves, all the laughter and brightness go with him.
Never did I think I’d be standing beside a man washing dishes, much less Jacob, a fierce hunter.
But the way he makes me feel, it’s like I matter.
He doesn’t look at me like I’m a pawn to be sold off for money or used as a servant.
My heart flutters as I replay how close our bodies were.
How I almost fisted his shirt and kissed him hard, scraping my lips across his stubble.
Even his scent of pine and spice still clings to me.
A light tapping draws my attention to the window.
It’s a bird. My aunt, in fact. I let her inside.
A flurry of feathers and a rush of wind churn around me as my aunt transforms into her half-human and half-bird form.
My stomach constricts thinking of becoming like that.
My thoughts fly to Jacob and the look of pure admiration on his face.
He won’t look at me like that once he knows what I really am.
“You didn’t drink your tonic,” Fiona lectures. “The transformation is nearly unbearable without it.”
“I spilled some of it accidentally and haven’t had a chance to ask you for more.”
Her eyes skim over me and narrow. “What happened to you? Why are you here in the kitchen?”
“My stepmother replaced the cook with me. I’m supposed to move to the turret tonight but I’m too weak to attempt the stairs at the moment.”
“What’s this nonsense you speak of? Where are the servants?”
“Most of them were let go.” I sag into a chair. My whole body shivers, probably from shock. “I don’t want to become a monster.”
“A monster? Do I look like a monster to you? Those are lies that Grimm has been feeding you. Transforming is about becoming who you are meant to be. Being half-bird is a glorious gift. You’ll see.
No matter if we are half-bird, half-human, or fully human, the choices of what to do with your talents and your life are what determine whether you’re a monster or a hero. ”
She goes and fetches me another cup of brew. The liquid is cool as it slides down my throat. I sigh and close my eyes, telling myself I’ll rest for a moment.
Someone shakes me awake. My eyes pop open to find Jesse staring at me, a horrified expression on her face. My heart slams into my throat. Why does she look at me like that? Have I finally turned into a monster?
“What is it?” I sit up, frantically touching my skin, terrified I’ll feel feathers, wings, or—Heavens help me—a beak. But all I feel is me. Smooth—if not dirty—skin and arms and legs. I let out a sigh of relief.
“I just…” Jesse stumbles on her words. “I wasn’t expecting you here. We came to eat breakfast, but Cook is gone and you’re here…lying on the kitchen hearth.”
I rise to my feet, my cheeks burning. But oddly, my muscles feel stronger, and my vision is sharper and clearer. Maybe sleeping on the floor isn’t so bad.
Until I realize Jesse and I aren’t alone.
Herman, Peter, and Kurt crowd around the door, twisting their hats as if unsure what to do.
“Is it true the mistress let Cook go?” Kurt asks.
“It’s true,” Herman says gruffly. “And if you wish to keep your job, you’ll do your work as quickly and silently as possible.”
“But what about our breakfast?” Peter stares at the kitchen, clean and tidy, but there’s no sign of the usual hearty breakfast Cook usually prepares for the staff and family. “We can’t be late to our duties.”
“Well.” I start digging through the cupboard. “I’m sure we can whip up something real quick. Cook must have baked rolls yesterday. Sausage can’t be that hard to make, can it?”
We work together to create breakfast. It turns out to be more fun than I expected.
We laugh over Kurt’s burnt toast, and Jesse teaches a new song she made up.
Once we’re finished eating the breakfast we cooked, I set the rest of the food on the table for the family who haven’t even woken yet.
Then, taking a deep breath, I head upstairs.
Pale morning light clings to the stairs, and birds sing outside.
For a moment, I imagine Mother is still sleeping in her bed and Father is out walking the fields, preparing for the spring planting.
But Mother is gone, and Father is probably locked away in his office as he’s become accustomed to doing. When I go to open my room, the door is locked. Numbness washes over my body as my new reality settles in.
“Ella,” Marianne calls, peeking out of her room. Her long brown hair is unbound and sways at her waist, smooth as silk. She rushes to hug me. “I’m so sorry Mother moved you to the tower. It’s terrible!”
“She really did it,” I say, dazed. “I’d thought she’d been exaggerating last night.”
Tears stream down my cheeks as anger, sadness, and fear well up in my chest. Marianne’s warm arms wrap around my shoulders.
“I made sure Jesse moved as many of your things into the turret as I could manage under Mother’s watchful eye. Jesse worked hard to make it cozy. I even had her put fresh sheets on the old bed.”
“Some of my things?” My tears dry up as anger wins my emotional battle. “How could she decide what I kept and what I didn’t?”
“I know this must be so hard for you.” Marianne touches my shoulder, staring at me with her rich brown eyes.
Then she hooks her arm in mine and begins walking me down the hall.
“Before we came here, did you know we were about to move to the poor house? We sold nearly everything except for our finest dresses. We did up our hair and went to our last party. That’s when Mother met Father.
Just think. If she hadn’t met him, our lives would’ve been ruined forever. ”
“I didn’t know that.” I pause mid-step. “So my father literally saved you from destitution?”
“That’s why we adore him. That experience showed me it’s when things are the worst that hope comes.”
When I clutched my mother’s hand, cold and lifeless, that had been my darkest hour. Except ever since my new stepmother arrived, things have only gotten worse. Jacob warned me she was a Forbidden. Should I let Marianne know as well?
“Mother said she’s going to sell off the rest of your things to pay for the needs of the family,” Marianne continues.
“What?” I gasp. This isn’t happening. I must be dreaming.
“Trust me, I know it’s hard, and I know what it feels like. But we’re sisters now, and sisters stick together.”
A bell rings from Bertha’s room.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“It’s Bertha.” Marianne rolls her eyes. “She got sick last night from the dinner and is too weak to walk so she’s using a bell to let me know when she needs something. I’d better see what she needs before she starts screaming and wakes Mother.”
Marianne rushes off, leaving me standing there, mouth open in shock. Slowly, I shuffle down the hall toward the turret, dreading to discover what Stepmother took from me. We always keep the door to the turret’s stairwell shut since the tower is drafty and cold.
The door groans as I open it. Thankfully, Jesse must have come through with a broom and brushed the cobwebs away when they brought up my possessions last night. A candle sits on the small table by the door. I light it and begin my climb.
When I was younger, I’d sneak up here, imagining I was a princess locked away in a tower. I’d pretend to fight my way out, battling against ogres and trolls. Except now I realize I’m far from a princess, maybe even becoming the very monster I once tried to slay.
At the top of the stairs, I open the second door and step inside the round room with its domed ceiling. Three tall, narrow windows spill beams of sunlight into the room, bathing the floor with a glittery glow like fairy dust.
My wooden chest sits at the foot of a tiny bed. An end table is set beside it with a vase of fresh sprigs of lavender. I trail my fingers over the herb, knowing it must be from Jesse. She knows it’s my favorite scent.
A vanity with a tall looking glass is cushioned against the wall beside my bed.
I stare at myself. I look horrible. Soot is smeared on my chin, my hair is tangled and wild, and my dress is ruined.
The flowers that once danced across the lavender skirts are only a memory, burnt and covered with ashes.
I pick up my brush on the vanity and desperately start combing my hair. Once finished, I set the brush beside the small, beaded jewelry box Father bought me two years ago. But then my eyes land on the box beside it. My skin crawls. Dr. Wissen’s gift.
I snatch it up and, after gently placing the smooth feather in my drawer, unlatch the tall glass pane and swing it open. I toss the box out the window. It hits the cobblestone pathway, splintering the wood into pieces. I smile.
That felt really good.
A spring breeze tickles my cheeks and tugs my hair.
Maybe this turret isn’t so bad. Now I don’t have to worry about being quiet, and I have a place all to myself.
My gaze trails up the mountainside to where Lichtenstein Castle is perched on the cliff, its pale tower spiking the sky, morning mist pooling around it.
Tomorrow night is the ball. I lean my elbows on the windowsill, wondering what it would be like to marry the prince and become a princess. He wouldn’t be as exciting as Jacob. He’d never look at me or touch my face like Jacob had last night.
A raven sails up to my window and clings to its edge. It gives me a side look with its wide black eye, but there’s something comforting about it, like a brother protecting me.
“What do you think the prince is like?” I ask. “Tall and handsome?”
The bird begins pecking at the side of my window, hunting for bugs.
“You’re right,” I agree with a sigh. “He’s probably cranky and altogether disagreeable. Still, a girl can dream of escape. He can’t possibly be as horrible as Dr. Wissen. Plus, if I were a princess, I could rehire all my servants.”
I take one last look at the castle, glistening in the morning light, and turn back to my new room. Stepmother thinks she can control me, but she’s wrong. Anticipation dances across my skin as I dig through my chest, hunting for my black dress for tonight’s adventure with Jacob.