Eric had originally planned to have the kitchen prepare some of Helia’s favorite foods: roasted swan and a saffron stew, served with fresh wheat bread and a satisfying mead...
But when Eleanor found out, she summarily canceled six of Eric’s orders, changing the roasted pheasant to roasted wild duck, the roasted swan to roasted pheasant, the mullet to trout, the cloves to garlic, and the mead to apple cider...
When Eric found out, he didn’t correct the changes. If it would make her feel better, then so be it. Besides, Helia had indeed been a bit out of line.
The evening banquet.
Eleanor hadn’t planned on attending the banquet, but that would make her look weak. ’This is my home, my castle. Why should I cower and hide?’
She sensed someone watching her. It wasn’t the detestable Helia, but the little one named Jeanne.
In the flickering candlelight, her hazel eyes looked exceptionally beautiful.
Her gaze fell on the locket-style box hanging from Eleanor’s neck.
"What is that?" Jeanne asked directly, sensing Eleanor had noticed her.
"Would you like to know?" Eleanor asked with a smile.
"Yes," Jeanne nodded.
"It’s..."
Before Eleanor could finish, another voice spoke up beside her.
It was Helia.
"A rotten finger, a pool of stale blood, or maybe gorilla spit, a crow’s feather, a shard from a wolf’s skull, a fox’s tooth, or even something an evil spirit lives in..."
Helia was seated on the other side of Eric from Jeanne. She leaned back, turning her head and raising her hands in a fearsome pose, trying to scare the little girl.
"Blasphemy. That’s not right," Jeanne said, looking at Helia.
"That’s right, I’m a Demon, and I love eating devout little girls," Helia said, seeming even more delighted by Jeanne’s reaction. Like a lion cub, she opened her mouth at Jeanne, revealing two rows of neat teeth and putting on a mock-ferocious display.
Although she was only a few years older than Jeanne, Jeanne was so small that Helia looked like a full-grown woman by comparison.
"Lady Eleanor, I don’t like her," Jeanne said to Eleanor, seeming frightened.
"I don’t like her either." Eleanor pulled Jeanne onto her lap and shot Helia a glare.
Then she kicked Eric, who was sitting beside her, lost in his own world.
Eric was busy trying to figure out how to talk to Helia about ’that matter’.
"Helia," Eric called out.
Helia reacted quickly this time. Before Eric could lose his temper, she sat up straight and stuck her tongue out at Eleanor and Jeanne.
Every move Helia made was unexpected. Not wanting to be around her any longer, Eleanor had planned to eat a few bites and then return to her room.
But it seemed Helia had anticipated this. She took a couple of bites of roasted pheasant, stood up, and clapped Eric on the shoulder with a smile. "Well, I’m full. I’ll be heading back to my room."
As she reached the door of the main hall, she made a face at Eleanor and Jeanne in a clear act of provocation.
This made Eleanor lose her appetite completely. She asked Jeanne if she wanted to go back and rest with her, but the girl shook her head.
In the end, Eleanor returned to her room alone.
"I feel like you should do something, Eric."
"Are you angry?" Eric asked, stroking Jeanne’s hair.
"I never get angry," Jeanne said confidently, tilting her head back.
"Then what about the day I met you...?"
"That was fear. I never get angry. I don’t think it’s necessary," Jeanne said, her words muffled as she gnawed on a pheasant leg.
"Really?"
"Really. At least she didn’t use foul language. Angels don’t like people who use foul language," Jeanne said earnestly.
"But babies sometimes starve, and they don’t use foul language at all."
"Babies go straight to Heaven," Jeanne said, looking at Eric.
"Bad children don’t."
"That’s not true. There are no bad children, only children who don’t know any better," Jeanne insisted.
"It sounds like you’ve never met a baby. Lots of them are terrible. I knew one in Essex who stole his father’s money and crawled down the road to a brothel." Eric began to spin his tale with a perfectly straight face.
"You’re the only bad child here!" Jeanne couldn’t help but smack Eric’s arm.
Jeanne immediately realized she had gotten angry. She lowered her head, looking embarrassed.
Eric laughed.
.....
He walked down a short corridor and climbed a seven-step staircase, each tread a solid plank of oak, until he reached Eleanor’s room.
Embroidered tapestries hung on the walls. Dazzlingly colorful, they were woven with silk threads of various hues interspersed with gold and silver, representing the pinnacle of the craft at the time. They depicted a hunting scene with hounds and falcons.
The bed was also adorned with a brightly colored Floral Carpet, and surrounded by purple-dyed drapes. All the chairs had throws and cushions, and one, taller than the rest, had an exquisitely carved ivory footstool placed before it.
Four branched Silver Candlesticks stood in the room, their large candles bathing the chamber in a brilliant glow.
Eleanor was sitting sideways on the bed while Ejiva knelt behind her, combing her hair to prepare her for sleep, even though it was still quite early.
As Eric entered, Eleanor was clutching a small vial. It was for rose oil. Yesterday it had been half full; now it was empty.
The previous night, Eric had emptied it over her skin.
Ejiva noticed Eric and immediately stopped. After paying her respects to him, she departed.
Eleanor slipped under the covers, turning her back to Eric.
’She didn’t want to talk to him right now.’
Indeed, they had been strangers only a day before.
Eric undressed, got into bed, and wrapped his arms around her under the covers.
After a long silence, Eleanor spoke.
"I thought you would go elsewhere first," Eleanor said, turning to face him. She took his hand and placed it on her waist, pressing her palm against his knuckles.
"I’m sorry about today."
"You’re not the one who should be apologizing."
"I’m sorry," he said, his hands moving to undo her clothes.
"I don’t like all the commotion, Eric."
"I know."
His hand rested on her waist, tracing the soft, smooth curve of her hip, the delicate line of her ribs, the flat, firm expanse of her stomach.
"I will try to get used to you, Eric, but you must respect me."
"I will," Eric said, kissing her neck.
"We have to be up early tomorrow to travel to Laponti City," Eleanor said, shifting to evade his advance, her forehead coming to rest against his chin.
"But it’s still very early."