3. Charlotte
CHARLOTTE
“ T hat was amazing!” Charlotte breathed. “I can’t believe Henry never gave me the chance to watch!”
“I can,” Gwen said in a muffled voice, angling her face away.
Charlotte frowned, moving slowly toward her friend. Easton stood close beside Gwen, but Gwen appeared to be straining away from him.
Charlotte realized the issue and rushed the rest of the way forward. Throwing her arms around Gwen’s large, furry neck, she put her mouth near her ear.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “Once I got over the first surprise, I never had trouble with Henry’s bear form. I always knew it was him, whatever body he was in. I still loved the man inside. Easton will be the same. I’m sure of it.”
Gwen stiffened at first, but the longer Charlotte talked, the more she relaxed. When Charlotte finally stepped back with a last squeeze of Gwen’s neck, Gwen shifted, facing them all without flinching.
Easton offered her a smile and tentatively extended his hand. Gwen glanced at Charlotte before looking back at him and visibly swallowing. Only when she nodded her head, did he reach gently forward and placed a hand on her large shoulder.
“It’s so soft,” he murmured, and Charlotte nodded enthusiastically.
“Isn’t it?” she agreed. “I was amazed the first time I felt Henry’s fur.”
Gwen relaxed even further, and Charlotte was grateful she was present to smooth over the awkward moment for her friend.
“Their fur might be soft, but they also have claws. And teeth.” Natalie’s voice was hard.
Charlotte threw an inquiring look first at her and then at the count.
“The queen has her guards patrol the city after sundown,” the count said. “Anyone fool enough to be caught outside gets scars to remind them of their mistake.”
Gwen sucked in an audible breath.
“The queen has no friends in the city,” Natalie said. “But there are plenty of people who are too scared to oppose her.” She lowered her voice to a mutter. “Cowards.”
“Or perhaps they just have more sense than you,” the count replied, his tone long-suffering.
Did he resent being forced to work with someone so young? Based on Gwen’s brief introduction, he was used to consulting with monarchs.
“Does that mean we’re stuck here until sunrise?” Easton asked, his focus on practicalities.
“That would be wisest,” the count said. “But don’t worry, my grandson will be here soon with food.”
Easton raised his eyebrows. “I thought it wasn’t safe on the streets at night?”
“My grandson is…distinctive,” the count said in a flat voice. “The guards all know him, and none would dare harm him.”
Natalie gave a dramatic sigh, in sharp contrast to the count’s carefully emotionless face and voice.
“You didn’t tell me Emmett was coming,” she said. “I would have left before dark if I’d known that.”
Charlotte threw her a questioning look, and the girl leaned closer, talking in a loud whisper.
“Emmett is seven. And he has a crush on me.” She rolled her eyes.
Charlotte tried and failed to hold back her smile.
“My grandson does not have…” The count sighed, giving up on his denial—either because he knew her claim was true or he knew there was no point trying to reason with Natalie. Charlotte found both options appealingly amusing. It was hard not to like Natalie despite how outrageous she was.
As if on cue, there was a quiet knock on the basement door, giving a moment of warning before it opened. A small figure slipped inside, but his presence was bulkier than his frame warranted thanks to the crutches he maneuvered inside with him. They didn’t slow him down, though. He wielded them like someone with long experience.
“Emmett.” The deep rumble of the count’s bear voice still managed to sound soft and welcoming. The courtier obviously held his grandson in deep affection.
“Did you bring us something yummy, at least?” Natalie asked, her focus on the bag slung over the boy’s shoulder.
From the way Emmett’s eyes brightened as they fell on her and the way his gaze quickly flitted away from her again, Charlotte gathered Natalie had been right about the crush. Her mouth tugged upward. Poor boy.
Emmett unhooked the bag and offered it to Natalie. The older girl took it and immediately began rifling through the contents, muttering to herself. When it became obvious she didn’t have anything else to say to him, Emmett turned to his grandfather.
“Did she really come back? Is she here?” He glanced doubtfully at Charlotte. Despite the late hour, there was enough light in the basement to clearly illuminate her golden coloring. And while he was apparently unfamiliar with the details of his princess’s appearance, he must at least know she was dark-haired.
“I am Princess Gwendolyn,” Gwen said calmly, her bear’s voice lower than her human one although still recognizable to Charlotte’s ear.
Emmett started so badly, he nearly lost his balance. Charlotte’s instinct was to rush forward and help, but the boy had recovered before she could move.
“But…you’re a bear,” he said.
“I hope we can trust you, Emmett,” the count said in a heavy voice.
The boy’s eyes widened even further, and he cast another look toward Natalie as he nodded vigorously.
“Of course, Grandfather. I would never say anything, you know that.” He faltered. “But…why is she a bear? I thought…”
“That I was a princess so pure the enchantment couldn’t touch me?” Gwen interjected in sour tones.
Charlotte made a revolted face, knowing Gwen was repeating her mother’s words. Gwen might be attempting a fa?ade of calm, but Charlotte knew how deeply her mother had hurt her, and how much Gwen hated being the tool the queen had used against her people.
Emmett stared at Gwen in bewilderment, and Easton drew even closer to her, his air protective. Charlotte couldn’t help smiling at the incongruous sight given Gwen’s size and current possession of sharp teeth. She had known Easton for less than a day, but he was clearly as devoted to Gwen as the princess was to him.
The thought of the pair’s reunion after so many years gave Charlotte joy, but it came hand in hand with an uncomfortable pang. How long would her separation from Henry be? Even if it took years, she would endure it—although she wasn’t sure how. She didn’t want to think about being separated from him for so long.
“You’re a dependable lad, Emmett,” Count Oswin said, “but you’re still a child. There are a great many things I haven’t confided in you.”
“You obviously knew,” Gwen said quietly to the count. “About me turning into a bear like everyone else.”
The count nodded. “Not initially. But my son was the one leading the expedition that brought Prince Henry across the mountains. Although Queen Celandine kept his presence as quiet as possible, she had to allow a few of us into her confidence. We were pressing for a wedding to take place immediately since she had claimed that was what would free us all from the enchantment. She countered by insisting that he needed to be included in the enchantment first. And then when it went wrong and turned him into a bear during the day, she had to explain why the ceremony couldn’t be performed at night when he was human.”
Natalie had extracted all the food from the bag while he spoke, and she soon had everyone seated in approximation of their previous circle as she distributed the meal. There were a few moments of silence as everyone began eating, but Charlotte was too confused to let the conversation drop.
“Why couldn’t the ceremony happen while one of them was a bear?” Charlotte asked, not understanding the issue. “Henry and I were married while he was in his bear form.”
The count raised his eyebrows. “Then I can only assume valley weddings are much simpler affairs than mountain ones.”
Charlotte suddenly remembered Henry’s initial question to her—back when she had only known him as a bear. He had even mentioned that some places had more elaborate ceremonies.
“Among other things,” the count continued, “a mountain bride and groom must each wash a dirty shirt belonging to the other.”
“Your marriage ceremony includes washing dirty clothing? By hand? On the spot?” Charlotte realized too late that her astonishment might seem rude. Thankfully the count responded stoically.
“As you can imagine, it isn’t something that can be done with paws like these. However, it is an essential part of our ceremony. It symbolizes starting a new, fresh future together.”
“That’s what they say,” Easton interjected. “But I’m pretty sure it’s an ancient conspiracy to make sure no mountain lady finds herself married to a man who doesn’t know how to do his own laundry.”
He delivered the words with such a serious air that they surprised a giggle out of Gwen, the vaguely threatening rumble reminding Charlotte of Henry.
Easton smiled back at Gwen, his eyes warm. “I’ve missed your laugh,” he said softly, his words clearly meant for her ears only.
Charlotte looked away, uncomfortable to be intruding on their moment. Tears built up behind her eyes. She ached for the sense of familiar companionship that existed between Gwen and Easton—the closeness she had experienced for herself for a few short months. She ached for Henry.
“I think it’s silly.” Natalie wrinkled her nose. “You put on the nicest dress you’re ever going to wear in your life and then you have to do laundry?”
“I’m surprised the queen didn’t just change the law about weddings,” Easton said.
“That assumes she actually wanted us to get married,” Gwen said. “But since she had lied about my marriage to a prince breaking the enchantment, the last thing she wanted was to have the wedding actually happen and be proved a liar in front of the entire kingdom. She’s been using delaying tactics for the last ten years, so she must have been delighted when it affected Henry differently. She was trying everything possible to delay, hoping something would come up to her advantage, and it did. The reversal in the enchantment for him was a convenient tool for her.”
“And now she knows the truth of breaking the enchantment thanks to Prince Henry’s godmother, but she still wants the wedding to go ahead,” the count mused. “At least she’s searching for you as frantically as if she wanted it to. Why is she still committed to the marriage?”
“I don’t think that has anything to do with the enchantment.” Gwen drew her words out, as if she didn’t want to say them. “Or at least, only a little. Our potential marriage has become about what she intends to do after the enchantment is broken.”
The count’s whole body went still, and it was somehow more intimidating than if he’d made a threat—a reminder that he was currently wearing the form of a very large predator.
“She wants to send you away to Arcadia, doesn’t she?” the count asked slowly. “She doesn’t intend to ever give you the mountain throne. It’s what we’ve been afraid of for years, but we didn’t have any choice. At least we thought we didn’t have a choice if we wanted to break the…” His voice trailed off, and his eyes moved to his grandson.
Charlotte frowned. She was definitely missing something here. Possibly multiple somethings.
“Actually, she wants me to marry Prince Henry so I have a claim to the Arcadian throne,” Gwen said, eliciting several gasps. “Obviously she intends for us to be puppet rulers, and it doesn’t seem like her ambition ends with Arcadia. She sees herself in the role of empress. She talked about her kingdom stretching to the sea.”
The count surged upward to stand on four feet. “Queen Celandine dreams of conquest?” A low, menacing growl rolled through the room.
Charlotte gulped, her back straightening. She had never lived in Arcadia, but she had spent years in Northhelm and Rangmere and had met honest, friendly, hardworking people in both places. Were their lives about to be overrun with war? Was Henry’s kingdom about to be attacked?
She wanted to jump up and do something, but what could she possibly do? Her best hope to help Henry’s kingdom was the same thing she had been aiming for from the beginning—rescue him from the mountain queen.
“So that’s it.” The count paced the width of the basement, only managing a few strides given his enormous size. “She hasn’t been able to move forward with plans of conquest all these years since the enchantment has tied us to the mountains. No wonder she’s getting desperate to break it.”
Gwen sighed. “Sit down. Please. You’re making me dizzy.”
To Charlotte’s surprise, the count complied. Maybe he really saw Gwen as an authority in the kingdom, and not just as a figurehead. The possibility must be even more overwhelming to Gwen than it was to Charlotte, but there was no question Gwen would make a better queen than her mother.
At least, that fact seemed obvious to Charlotte. But weren’t the courtiers supposed to be loyal to the queen?
“Why are you all so desperate to break the enchantment?” Charlotte asked the count. “If you’re not interested in conquest yourself, is it so bad to be stuck here or to be a bear if it’s only at night?”
Natalie snorted, and Charlotte winced. “I understand why the people of the city must want it to end,” she hurried to add, “but is it so terrible for the court? You seem to be fully in control of yourselves still, and you’re only bears at night which is much better than it used to be for poor Henry. And isn’t your bear form the only reason you’re able to get through the mountain passes? What’s the reason for the court being so desperate to free themselves?”
“It’s me,” Emmett said softly, inserting himself into the conversation for the first time. “I’m the reason.” He looked down at his right leg where the trouser was pinned up just below his knee.
“You are not the reason,” the count said firmly. “You are the miracle.” He sighed, looking across at Charlotte with eyes that conveyed the sorrow of years. “Changing nightly appears to have no ill effect on our bodies—even the children who are caught in the enchantment have been able to grow in a normal way. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for the unborn. We didn’t realize initially, but as time passed it became increasingly clear that it was extremely difficult for an enchanted woman to become pregnant. And those babies that did manage to cling to life were harmed somehow in the process of the daily transformations. The effect has been different for each one, but…” He sighed again, glancing at his grandson’s missing leg.
“I always wanted a brother or sister.” Emmett shrunk in on himself, his food uneaten in his hand.
The count gave a rough growl in the back of his throat. “My son and his wife are desperate for more children but have been unsuccessful all these years. It grieves them greatly, although my daughters consider them fortunate to have even one. Neither of them has managed as much. I expected to have a bevy of grandchildren at my knee by now, but so far Emmett is the only one. And the years keep passing. We have to find a way to break the enchantment before it’s too late for them to think of future children. But we cannot allow it to lead to war. I want to save my future grandchildren, but I have no desire to see my children pointlessly slaughtered in the process.”
Gwen’s mouth fell open, and Charlotte could tell this information was as new to her as it was to Charlotte.
“I understand why you don’t want war,” Gwen said. “I’m guessing your son would be expected to lead our forces. But the court not being able to have children of their own…How did I not…Is that why I saw so few children at court? I always thought the courtiers were just keeping them away. I never saw Emmett at court, after all.”
The count nodded. “We do keep them away. Anyone fortunate enough to have a child tends to be protective of them. And no one wants to risk one of them saying the wrong thing and—” He broke off and looked at Easton.
“You don’t want them to end up like me,” Easton said grimly. “And my parents.”
“I think your parents might be the fortunate ones,” Charlotte muttered. “Didn’t the queen exile them from court? Sounds like a reward from where I’m sitting.”
“A reward for some, punishment for others,” Natalie muttered.
“I think they’re nice,” Emmett said and then immediately looked mortified, the tips of his ears going red.
Easton looked between them. “Huh?”
Natalie glanced back at him and gave an exaggerated sigh. “They live with us now.”
Easton straightened, his eyes widening. “My parents live with your family? Wha—how—?”
“That’s a coincidence,” Charlotte said lightly, looking between them.
“Not really,” the count said. “I’m not denying Natalie did well for a girl her age, but there’s a reason she went to the palace in the first place, and why she was able to find and connect with me. She knows a lot more about the palace and court than most fourteen-year-olds in the city.”
“My parents are at your house right now?” Easton looked like he wanted to bolt straight out of the door.
Natalie rolled her eyes. “Relax. They’ll still be there in the morning.”
“But how did they end up—” Easton clearly couldn’t relax.
“It used to be the other way around,” Natalie said, sounding softer. “When I was very little, my parents both worked in your family’s city mansion. Your parents treated them well, and when my mother first got sick they supported her, helped her get early treatment—although the doctors here didn’t know how to treat it properly. So when your parents lost everything, my parents took them in without question.” Her eyes narrowed. “That’s why I’ve always had to share a room with my younger sister, you know. Our house isn’t a mansion like your old one.”
“Thank you.” Easton held her eyes, his face and voice sincere. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I always hoped they were all right, but I feared…” He drew a deep breath. “Thank you. Will you take me to see them?”
Natalie softened even further, giving him a small smile. “I suppose I could manage that. It will be fun actually to see the lost son return.” She brightened immediately, bouncing on her seat. “They’re going to be so pleased with me for bringing you home. The count kept insisting the princess would return, and of course my parents believed it because they’ve always put their hope in her, and they wouldn’t believe me when I said—” She cut herself off and glanced at Gwen. “Well, never mind that. The point is that no one was expecting you to return. They’re going to be so surprised.” Her grin spread across her face. “I bet our mothers will cook up a feast.”
“You can take Easton to see his parents once it’s daytime,” the count said. “Just make sure he isn’t seen by anyone outside the household.” He looked across at Gwen. “Easton’s parents have been a big part of gathering the rebellion in the city—such as it is. Natalie’s home is a central location for our network. No one there will betray us.”
“It will be good to see them again,” Gwen said with what might have been a tentative smile. For all the remarkable expressiveness of the transformed bears, there were some subtleties of expression lost.
“I said Easton can go,” the count said sharply. “Obviously you can’t go, Your Highness. You have to return to the palace.”