Page 2 of The Beast of Ashwood Manor

As I reached for it, she snapped it back. “I expect you to finish your duties here first.”

“I’ll leave it in my pocket,” I said.

Making a sour face, she gave it to me and turned for the pantry.

I glowered at her back before looking down at the letter, despite already knowing its sender. The cream-hued letter had my name etched in elegant black ink. In the corner was a design of flowers. Not just any flower, but tulips, my mother’s favorite.

“Who’s the letter from, Cale?” Bella teased, smiling impishly. “Have you got an admirer?”

I shook my head. “Not exactly.”

“Let us see!” Julia started. She plucked the envelope from my hand before I had time to protest. “Oh, there are flowers in the corner. Look, Bella, our little Caledoeshave an admirer.” She scrunched her shoulders up in excitement.

I tried to snatch it back, but Bella grabbed it first. “Oh, do open it, Cale, so we can see who it’s from. I know a few girls who fancy you.”

“No one’s reading anything until these pies are done!” Greta slammed her rolling pin on the table of half‍-‍cut vegetables, making us all jump.

Bella threw the letter back at me, but it fell, and I grabbed it up, thankful no one had opened it. As much as I tried to stay calm, this made my blood rush, and I huffed steam out my nose as I turned back around to the table to cut vegetables‍—‍rather aggressively at that.

“Don’t get so mad, Cale, we’re only teasing you,” Julia said. “Goodness.”

Julia and Bella laughed behind their hands as they went back to their work, and I kept my eyes on the cutting board, grinding my teeth to keep from saying anything in return. All it ever got me was flak from Greta, and the last thing I needed was her sending me out of the kitchen with no food. But the letter was heavy in my pocket‍—‍adding to the weight that was already sinking me lower and lower with every passing minute.

After I was finished in the kitchen, I made my way up to my room, which was little more than a storage closet. In fact, ithadbeen the storage closet at one time. I considered myself lucky; allowing me a job at the biggest tavern in Tolburg came with a place to stay, even if that space was only big enough for a cot.

I glanced over my folded clothes on the shelf above the bed, my eyes roaming over all the colorful rocks sitting between them and on the sides. I slipped the white rock from earlier out of my pocket and placed it on the shelf beside the others waiting to be painted. I’d had to put up another shelf just to accommodate more.

Seeing my paints nearly gone, I sighed.

I’ll have to make more colors soon and buy the ones I can’t make.

I changed out of my stained kitchen clothes and pulled on a clean button-up shirt and trousers. Then I pulled my suspenders up and sat at the foot of my bed. I took out my letter and stared at it. It was crumpled now, the ink smudged from wiping my wet hands on my pants.

My hands shook as I opened it, but I wasn’t really sure what I expected. As someone who can’t read good, letters always intimidated me. Luckily, my mother knew just how awful my reading skills were and kept it short.

Cale,

It has been 4 months since I saw you. I expect you home by the Spring Tide.

Mother

I sighed, reading it over several times until I understood everything. The things that stood out were the number four and Spring Tide, and I gathered from these words that she was upset that I hadn’t come and seen her for four months and that she wanted me home for the Spring Tide festival. My mother partook in it every year, selling charms or candles infused with sage, thyme, and lavender that might help clear out spirits from one’s house during spring cleaning.

The letter hadn’t reached me in time for me to partake in the weeklong activities leading up to the festival, and since Greta didn’t give me the letter until today, I wasn’t sure if I would make it. My stomach did flips at the thought of not going, not only because I would feel bad not going to see my mother, but because she would be angry if I didn’t come home.

Plopping back on the bed, I put the letter aside and looked at it. I didn’t want to go back home. There were too many faces I didn’t want to see. Faces that had teased and tormented me, faces that had hurt me. Tolburg was my life now, even if it was just as lonely here. At least nobody knew about my mother, and nobody knew I was good for nothing besides being some kitchen knave or farm boy. Here, I was just a common face in a sea of people.

But I knew I would end up caving in and going back home to Briar Glen, at least for a visit. I would only stay long enough for the festival, though I dreaded the thought of my mother wanting me there even longer.

In the morning, after packing my suitcase with two pairs of clothes and a few rocks and my paint set, I went to Greta to inform her of my sudden summons to home.

She was rather prickly about me leaving and said nothing at first as she rolled out biscuits. Then she said, “I hope you left your room free of food so the mice don’t get in.”

“It’s spotless,” I told her.

Greta nodded and looked back at Bella. “You and Julia will pull extra work until I find someone else to fill in.”

Bella’s shoulders shrank, and she picked up her speed in the kitchen.

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