“Good?” Severin whispered as the footsteps grew louder.
“Yes,” Elle said, changing her grip on his shoulders. “Although even I must admit this is most scandal—,” Ell broke off when Severin bounded up the stairs, moving smoothly but with greater agility than he had previously displayed. He loped up the walkway that made a perimeter around the room—bending forward and pushing off the ground with his free hand to help balance himself as he ran. He darted behind a hanging tapestry.
“Do not speak a word,” Severin growled, his eyes glowing in the shadow of the tapestry.
Elle held her tongue and hauled herself further up his shoulders so she too could peer around the tapestry when the prince inched his head out from behind it.
Elle had just enough time to see plump Bernadine exit the long corridor that led to the kitchens before Severin heaved himself behind the tapestry.
The sudden motion jostled Elle, making her fall against Severin’s thick neck. The black fur on the prince’s neck tickled Elle’s nose, and she took in a squeak of air before clasping her hand over her nose and holding her breath to keep in a sneeze. Her lungs burned and time seemed to stretch on until there were footsteps again. This time the footsteps grew softer as they retreated.
Severin peered around the edge of the tapestry, Bernadine was gone.
Elle unclamped her nose and sneezed three times. “That was telling,” Elle said, blinking her watering eyes before she wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
“If you wipe your hand on me you will regret it,” Severin said.
Elle sneezed again. “Bernadine?”
“Only a fool would not fear her,” Severin said, emerging from behind the tapestry.
“I would have thought Heloise would be a bigger threat,” Elle said.
“Heloise is a bear when it comes to budgeting and household supplies, but it is Bernadine who leads my servants like they are her personal army,” Severin said. “She greatly influences their morale and thought process.”
“Who would have thought a plump cook could be so dangerous?” Elle said, planting her forearm on Severin’s broad shoulders before pushing herself up to rearrange her broken leg.
Severin started down the hallway, his gait rocking Elle back and forth like she was in a cradle. “I will take you to the Rose Salon, you can find your way to whatever room you desire from there,” Severin stated more then asked.
“Yes. Thank you, Your Highness,” Elle said as the prince walked up a corridor. He paused at a set of double doors and opened one, sliding inside.
The Rose Salon was built overlooking a rose garden. The far side of the room was lined with windows and two glass doors that opened up into the gardens. It was decorated in dusty hues of pink and orange. The furniture was exquisite and the ceiling was covered in a painted fresco. The room was warmed by the sun, although Elle suspected it was chilly in the winter and required a fire.
Severin removed Elle from his back, handing her crutches back to her. “If Emele has you carried back downstairs you are on your own,” he warned.
Elle smiled like a satiated cat. “Do not worry about me, Your Highness. I’ll be fine.”
Severin shrugged his shoulders and exited the Rose Salon. He was back a moment later. “You will tell no one I carried you?”
“You have my absolute discretion,” Elle said.
Severin exhaled a chuff of air that might have been a cat laugh before he left again.
Elle listened to his claws click as he walked down the hallway before disappearing from her hearing range. “That was certainly educational. He is afraid of his cook, how unexpected.” Elle said, a bemused smiled on her lips. She glanced over her shoulder at the rose garden before following Severin’s example and quitting the room.
Elle wasn’t exactly surprised when Emele dragged her out to the gardens. It was windy and cloudy, and to attest to the weather’s coldness the morning frost hadn’t melted yet. Both girls wore suede mitts and fur lined cloaks with the hoods pulled up.
On such a biting day Emele would normally declare the outdoors off limits and force Elle to stay inside. However, everyone knew that snow would soon blanket the countryside. As such the gardeners were out in full force, covering rose bushes, pulling and removing dead greenery, raking leaves, and planting bulbs for the following year.
It would be one of the last chances Emele had to visit Marc in the gardens, and she wasn’t going to waste it, but she couldn’t go see him alone either. Thus, on this particularly raw and cold day, Elle found herself outside.
“Where is Marc?” Elle asked, pulling down on the fabric of her hood to make it snug against her face.
