Page 23 of The Beast Between Us
I stir the pot faster.
“Do you think I caused it?” I ask quietly. “Have I done something wrong?”
“Nonsense, child,” Oswin says at once, his tone firm but kind. “You’ve changed things, yes…but none of this is your fault.”
He sets down his knife and looks at me fully, eyes steady beneath furrowed brows.
“The storm, the hunger, the unrest… those have long been brewing. You didn’t bring them. You’ve only stirred the waters that were already troubled.”
“Regardless,” I murmur, returning to my stew, “I should apologize for my part.”
I stir a little faster, thinking aloud.
“Perhaps I can go to market and buy him a gift.” A pause. “Oh… I haven’t any money.”
My brow furrows, undeterred.
“Maybe I could paint him a portrait. That is, of course, if he already has the supplies…” I trail off, chewing my lip. “Okay…maybe I could draw him a bath? Is there a tub here that he can fit into?”
Oswin chuckles behind me, and I feel my cheeks heat.
“Sire has never been one to have others do such a simple task he can manage himself,” Oswin tells me.
“I hardly think drawing a bath is asimpletask,” I reply, tossing him a look over my shoulder. “It would take alotof legwork to carry enough water to the second floor for a bath big enough for Mr. Evermere.”
“You misunderstand,” Oswin says, amusement flickering in his voice. “There are large water tanks on top of the building that store rainwater. The system uses pipes…gravity-fed. They lead straight into Sire’s private rooms… and the kitchen, of course.”
“Oh,” I blink, surprised. “No wonder you were able to get my stew water so quickly.”
I pause, then smile as curiosity gets the better of me.
“I’ve read of systems like that, but I’ve never actually seen one in person. How fascinating.”
Oswin chuckles softly. “It’s a clever system. Old, but well-maintained. Sire ensures the mechanisms are kept in working order, though he pretends not to care.”
I smile faintly, stirring the stew again. “That sounds about right.”
He begins chopping carrots at a calm, steady rhythm while I chew on my next thought.
“So… he draws his own baths,” I say thoughtfully. “Does he cook his own meals too?”
Oswin raises an eyebrow. “He could, if needed. But no. He tends to avoid the kitchen unless it’s absolutely necessary. His mother’s heart failed while in this very room. It’s never good for him to remember that pain so vividly.”
“Ah.” My chest tightens a little, but I nod.
I glance toward the storm-blurred window, rain still tapping steadily against the panes.
“I just… I want to do something kind for him,” I admit. “But everything I think of feels too small.”
Oswin gives me a long, knowing look. “Small things, when done with care, can matter more than you think, my Lady.”
I nod slowly, unsure, but clinging to the hope in his words.
“Then I’ll find a way,” I whisper. “Even if it’s just one small thing at a time.”
∞∞∞
I’m nervous.
