Emele pointed across the room with a shaking hand.
Sitting in front of the fireplace was a ragged looking squirrel. Its eyes were bugged, and the fur on its tail was patchy, but it looked snug nestled into the fluff it had pulled from the now ruined rug.
“It must have climbed in the open window. Sorry about that,” Elle said, wincing when Emele smacked her on the head with her slate.
WHY did you leave the window open?
“It was stuffy,” Elle said, making sure Jock was securely asleep. Elle knew the fat dog wouldn’t be able to catch the squirrel, but she didn’t want to invite chaos. “Open the balcony door and we can shoo the squirrel out.”
Emele looked unconvinced. She hefted herself on Elle’s formidable bed and crawled across it—her skirts taking up nearly the entire surface—to reach the door on the other side of the room. She opened the door and retreated to Elle’s bed while Elle stood—shivering in the cold—and grabbed one of her long abandoned crutches.
“Time for you to leave,” Elle said to the squirrel, thumping the crutch on the floor before edging towards the creature.
The squirrel chattered at her but didn’t move.
“Leave,” Elle said, nudging the intruder with her crutch.
The squirrel moved about an inch when Elle grew more forceful with her prods. Elle got it to stray to the edge of the rug when the squirrel turned and launched itself on top of the crutch. It ran up the wooden length and latched onto Elle’s hand, biting one of her fingers.
Elle yelped, dropped the crutch, and whipped her hand, sending the squirrel flying. As the squirrel hit the ground with a thump Elle jumped backwards. “That hurt,” she grimaced when her healed leg protested at the sudden movement.
The squirrel made more angry sounds.
Elle retreated to her bed with Emele. “Wretched beast. New plan, get Severin. He can chase it out. Could you get me a bandage? I’m bleeding most impressively.”
Emele nodded and rolled off the bed, crushing half her skirts. She was almost to the door when Elle realized what she was wearing.
“Wait, don’t get Severin. Get the kitchen cat.”
Are you mad? A cat is not going to chase off a squirrel!
“Then get a footman, just don’t get Severin.”
Why? He is the only male with a voice in the whole household!
Elle briefly covered his eyes. “I don’t want to face him with a bit hand in my dressing gown.”
The squirrel angrily chattered and climbed a chair, perching on the back of it.
“Forget it, get Severin,” Elle said, wrapping herself in a coverlet.
Emele disappeared from the room, and Elle clutched a drowsy Jock to her chest as she stared the squirrel down. The squirrel hopped off the chair and returned to its nest of shredded rug. It moved with alarming swiftness, streaking forward like lightning.
Elle was standing on the bed, still cradling Jock—who was making her arms fall asleep—when Severin entered the room.
“Emele tells me you are under siege,” the cursed prince said, joining Elle at her bedside.
“It’s over there,” Elle said, nodding her head at the squirrel as she struggled to hold Jock. Jock squirmed and barked at Severin, wriggling in Elle’s arms.
“And why were you unable to convince it to make an exit?” Severin said.
“It bit me.”
“It what?”
“Have you ever been bitten by a squirrel?”
“No.”
“Don’t. It hurts more than one would expect.”
“I thought all maidens were supposed to have an almost magical way with animals,” Severin said, folding his arms across his chest.
“I do not know what sort of books you read as a child, but they must have been ridiculous if they made you believe that,” Elle said. “Now would you please remove the squirrel from my room?”
“I’m still amused you called for assistance. A squirrel may be a difficult foe, but I assume it can’t be much worse than the mountain hag.”
Elle rolled her eyes. “Severin.”
“Very well. And exactly how did you think I would be able to relieve you of this pest any better than one of the other servants?” Severin asked.
“The fact that you have the head of a cat,” Elle dryly said.
“True. I concede,” Severin said before striding across the room. He positioned himself in a straight line from both the squirrel and the open door.
Elle shivered as a few flakes of snow fluttered into her room, and Jock rocketed out of her arms when Severin roared. He sounded like a snarling lion. The noise was deafening and frightening.
Severin scared all occupants of the room, expect himself. The squirrel ran from the chateau like a cat being chased by a dog. Jock fell on Elle’s bed and struggled to his paws before he hopped off the bed and ran across the room to bark at Severin’s feet. Elle dropped her coverlet and leaped off the bed, slamming her balcony door shut.
