Page 21 of The Curse and the Silver Rose

Now, as she dressed for the day in one of the pretty cotton dresses that had appeared in her wardrobe overnight, Amelie vowed to be more respectful of Davron. With this in mind, she decided to spend the day exploring the grounds instead of tempting her curiosity by remaining inside the castle.

The fresh air would do her good, and a day outdoors would keep her out of trouble. She hoped to say hello to Trésor, if she was able to find the stables. She stowed her silver rose in a deep pocket of the dress, and then she set off.

The castle grounds were even more vast than Amelie had estimated. She followed a pebbled path to a lush green garden, with a pond in the center. Willow trees swayed overhead, and orange and pink tulips nodded in the gentle breeze. She sat on a garden bench to watch the frogs jump from their lily pads into the water. The warmth and the lazy buzz of insects had a hypnotic effect on Amelie, and her mind began to wander.

Amelie wanted to know everything about the curse. How had it been cast? Could it be broken? Presumably not, if the High Magus had been unable.

And how was Davron so sure the Dark One would not harm Amelie if she abandoned Castle Grange, yet hunted her now? That didn’t make any sense to her, despite his insistence.

Then, there was the question of why this mage wanted revenge. Revenge for what? Out of all the questions she wished to ask Davron, this was perhaps the most sensitive one. She knew it was none of her business. This fact did not lessen her curiosity, of course. She couldn’t imagine what would drive someone to curse and murder a whole family. What if Davron was evil? What if his parents had been bad people? After all, she was only getting his side of the story.

A horse’s whinny reached Amelie’s ears, and she stood up eagerly, hoping to see Trésor. She left the garden and followed the pebble path around the castle toward the sound.

Trésor was nowhere to be seen. An enormous black Clydesdale horse with a cart attached stood outside a back door to the castle. A wiry, tanned man was unloading wooden boxes of vegetables from the cart and transferring them into what appeared to be a storeroom.

He looked up as Amelie approached.

“Hello there,” he said, immediately sweeping his cloth hat from his head and pressing it to his chest. He wore overalls and had a friendly smile on his heavily lined face. “I’m Oskar.”

Amelie curtsied. “Lovely to meet you, Oskar. My name is Amelie.”

“Aah, but of course you are.” He gave a bow. “The master hoped you would come.”

“Really?” asked Amelie, immediately intrigued. “What else did he say?”

Oskar’s face reddened. “Not much at all, to be sure. He’s not known to be forthcoming. Keeps to himself, like. We never seen him in the village, but he does pay all his bills on time, and then some, so I can’t complain.”

“He did mention that you deliver food for him. It’s strange how the castle can’t?—”

Amelie trailed off, unsure how much she could say about the curse in front of Oskar.

She was wondering about the castle’s ability to provide so many extravagances, yet food had to be delivered.

Oskar seemed to read her mind. “Food is much like love. It can’t be conjured out of thin air.”

“Oh, I see.”

He did know about the curse, then. Of course, he did. The whole village must’ve—Davron did say they suffered for it.

The horse gave a soft whinny. Amelie went to him and stroked his nose. He wore blinkers, and she stood directly in front of him so that he could see her.

“Oh, Nero likes you,” said Oskar with an approving grin. “He acts like a big tough guy, but he’s a softie underneath it all. Loyal as they come.”

“He’s gorgeous.”

Oskar edged toward the back of the cart. “My Lady, I do apologize, I must keep loading the food inside. I’ve got to be home quickly, you see. My lad’s indisposed. He’s at home with only his sisters, one of whom is the biggest troublemaker in the land.”

“Of course. I’m sorry about your boy. And please, call me Amelie.”

“Aye, Amelie.”

She went to the cart alongside Oskar and picked up one of the smaller boxes, carrying it into the storeroom.

He blanched. “What’re you doing? The master’ll have my head if he sees me putting his lady to work.” He gestured at her dress. “And you’re getting dirt on you.”

“Nonsense.” Amelie returned to the cart and picked up another box. “Two people make the work go twice as fast. Or at least, that’s what I used to tell my sister in an attempt to have her help me launder the clothes.”

Oskar gave a reluctant nod. “I’ll not tell you what you can and can’t do My Lady, but please be careful.”

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