Page 54 of Beau and the Beast

"And he's actually... paying attention to it?"

"We're only halfway through the first day," he said cautiously. "But so far so good."

She was shocked. Wolfram didn't take kindly to people ordering him around.

"So, I was thinking of cooking tonight, and I wanted to know if I needed to make any sort of special accommodations for him."

"For Wolfram," she said, feeling dumb.

He nodded.

"Is there anything he doesn't eat or... Christ, I don't know how to put this delicately. Does he eat with a knife and fork? I've just been thinking about it and it seems like the fine motor skills with his hands are passable but that it might be difficult to grip something as small as a knife and fork and—"

"Beau," Violet said, holding up a hand to stop him. "You really put thought into this, huh."

Beau nodded.

"He doesn't eat with us," she said. "I'm sure he just didn't see the part of your schedule that said he was supposed to join us tonight."

"Why doesn’t he eat with you all?" he asked. "Dinner seems to be the highlight of the day for the rest of you."

"It's unpleasant for him to sit at the table with us," she said, trying to be patient. "He's said it himself many times. It just reminds him of all of the things that have changed for him."

"That's too bad, then," Beau said. "Because he's going to come to dinner tonight. And I need to know what to make for him and how to make him comfortable."

Violet sighed.

"Even if you got him to come, a vegetarian dinner isn't going to work for him. He has to eat a few pounds of meat most days. Our butcher thinks we have a very large exotic pet up here—and he's not entirely wrong."

"Then he can have his several pounds of meat with us at the table. I may be a vegetarian but I know how to sear a steak."

Violet sighed and dragged a hand down her face. "You should talk to him before you get too attached to this idea."

"I'm not going to treat him like a child, Violet. He's a grown goddamn man and—hell, I actually have no idea how old he is."

Violet did the math quickly in her head. "He's 47."

It was incredible to think that both she and Wolfram had still been in their 30s on the first day of the curse.

"Right. Well. He shouldn't be spending whole stretches of days sitting in his room with the shades drawn and no one to talk to but me. He'll come out tonight and have a civilized dinner with the rest of us. Now, does he use a knife and fork or not?"

* * *

"Absolutely not,” Wolfram said.

Beau sat cross-legged on a cushion, carefully pouring tea for both of them. He didn't bother looking at Wolfram as the man denied him.

"You can act like a spoiled brat or you can do what's best for you and take an hour out of your life to see the people on your staff," Beau said.

"Then I'll act like a spoiled brat," Wolfram snarled.

"Hm, I guess I phrased that poorly. Acting like a spoiled brat wasn’t a real option and youwillbe joining us for dinner tonight."

"I have no desire to see them eat and I'm sure the feeling is mutual," Wolfram said.

"Nevertheless, it's healthier for you to leave this room and interface with some other people sometimes."

Beau was resolute. He slid Wolfram's teacup across the table before stirring sugar into his own and taking a sip.

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