🎂🎂🎂
THE following day, dark clouds to the northwest cast a heavy shadow on the horizon and stubbornly remain even as the sun rises.
We visit the archive right after breakfast, and eventually, dusting my grimy hands, I glance out the window to the north with a sigh.
A sudden roar rattles the windowpane.
“It’s coming from that direction, isn’t it?” asks Rodney.
“Yes, it is.”
Actually, we are unexpectedly close to Longhurst, I realize. No rivers or mountains lie between it and our location, and no boundary aside from sparse woodlands across the plains separates the two territories. And few people populate the area, so I can easily see the distant clouds from the tiny town hall. They must be battering the region with a relentless torrent of rain as we speak.
The pane rattles again.
“It doesn’t look like it’s rained here in a long time,” I note.
“I don’t think the people here have much contact with those in Longhurst, probably the result of repeated trade disputes,” supplies Rodney. “They really dislike the locals in Longhurst, so I don’t suppose they care about the crisis there.” He had gleaned as much by listening to servant gossip while I was dining with the trustee and his family the night before.
RATATATA—
“They also said that they’ve always been told by their elders not to interact with people from Longhurst, though they don’t really know the reason.”
“I get why they don’t want to get involved…but I guess it’s true. No matter where you go, people are swayed by rumors. Can’t say I’m different myself.”
“Exactly, Master. You’ve changed so much so quickly; it’s quite hilarious.”
Shame washes over me as I recall how badly I treated Abigail when she first arrived. Stop laughing already, Rodney.
The windowpane shakes incessantly.
“Either way,” he says, “they want nothing to do with Longhurst or its people, so their apathy isn’t that surprising.”
“Fair enough. The trustee was sent here from the capital and isn’t a local, so his research was only out of curiosi—”
RATATA—
“Shut up already! What’s with that creature?!”
“Master, I can’t help but feel that it’s trying to call out to us?”
The roar switches between tones, again and again, from low rumbling groans to high-pitched noises that vibrate the windows.
What does it want?!
✦ ✦ ✦
I snuggle in bed with the thunderbird plush my lord husband gave me the previous Holy Night. It’s usually tucked amid the pillows, but it’s been sleeping with me while he’s away on assignment. It’s so fuzzy and warm. While too hot to hug during daytime, it feels cool at night, so it’s perfect for bed.
Tabitha pulls the blankets up to my chin, says goodnight, and leaves the room.
I’ve been protecting the house for three weeks. During that time, I invited Miss Rickman over to pick strawberries and enjoy tea in the back garden. I had never hosted a tea party before, and I think I did a good job as viscountess.
Earlier in the evening, I walked around the house with Ethan to check all the doors and windows. After he turned each lock, I tested it to make sure it was secure. I promised him I’d protect our home.
Closing my eyes, I bury my face in the thunderbird and focus my mind in the direction my lord husband indicated to me before he left. I’m really good at sensing monsters and the weather, no matter how far away. I was also great at detecting my lord husband’s whereabouts when we were both in Longhurst. But when he’s staying in a human settlement, I can’t find him at all.
That’s why I scan the forests and mountains that lie in his general direction. Monsters always listen to their area’s boss, so it’ll be fine. If they’re keeping to schedule, my lord husband should be on his way back to the capital. How close does he have to be before I can sense him again, I wonder. Probably the city’s outermost gates.
Both the thunderbird and my bed are fluffy and warm, much warmer than the forest spring in wintertime. Yet, for some reason, my core feels cold.
I used to wait every winter for the small human to return in spring, until he didn’t.
My lord husband isn’t like that. Besides, this is his home. He’ll definitely come back.
And Tabitha and Ethan are here too. The old gardener teaches me all about flowers created by humans, and the chef prepares delicious human food for me. My life is completely different from before. Nobody lies to me. And nobody tries to kill me.
✦ ✦ ✦
🎂🎂🎂
IN my spare time, I make lots of baby socks and gloves, embellishing them with embroidery.
Tabitha tells me the baby isn’t due for a while. I’ve also heard that humans stay pregnant for about nine months, so the baby will probably arrive in winter. Although we’ll surely visit Drewett in autumn for the harvest festival, the baby won’t be there yet.
Human babies cannot roll over when they are born. I was the same. I remember being surprised that I was unable to move much despite spending so long inside my mother. I don’t think I was given any socks or gloves to wear, so I must have been born in spring. Lady Stella’s baby will be born in winter, so it should have gloves and socks.
I’m sitting under the parasol in the back garden, staring up at the trees the old grandfather has trimmed. Shimmering sunlight reflects off the leaves, the glare much stronger than on the day my lord husband departed. He’s promised to teach me how to swim that summer.
I hope it’ll be summer by the time he comes home.
“My lady?”
I turn to see Tabitha leading Miss Rickman toward me. Behind them trails a servant carrying several large books. Miss Rickman and I had agreed to show each other our favorite books that day.
I’ve selected The Encyclopedia of Marine Animals, which waits on the table next to me. I like it because it’s not too heavy to hold, has a smooth and shiny cover, and contains realistic illustrations of the sea creatures.
When I last invited Miss Rickman to tea, I drew a roly-poly in crayon on a corner of the envelope, and she praised me for depicting the roly-poly accurately with fourteen legs. She’s amazing. Even Ethan doesn’t know how many legs a roly-poly has. She loves insects, so I’m certain she’s brought some amazing books.
“Wow! Horses plow fields?! They can work?!” I exclaim.
“Th-They can dig up potatoes and h-harvest them.”
One of the books she shares is about the different horses that humans have bred. Big horses, small horses. Horses that work in mines are slight but strong, I learn. I don’t think Longhurst uses horses in their mine. Or maybe they do; I’ve never been to look.
I’m as unfamiliar with animals that coexist with humans, like cows and horses, as I am the cultivated flowers and trees the old grandfather plants in our garden. For example, the haggis I ate the previous year came from a type of magic goat hybrid. I know plenty about magic goats but nothing about such hybrid creatures.
Perhaps those mirror birds caged in the outbuilding on the Longhurst estate had faced the same fate and were intended to produce novel hybrids. They’d failed to become anything new, however, and had hated the experience anyway.
“Do you know about magic goat hybrids, Miss Rickman?”
“Y-Y-Yes. Th-They’re delicious. They’re more resistant to d-disease than regular sheep and are easier to raise.”
“How did humans get the magic goats to mate with regular sheep?”
“I-It’s difficult to get m-monsters to do our bidding, s-so we tempt them with food, th-then let the sheep loose in the magic goats’ territory and w-wait for them to mate naturally.”
The mirror birds had been starved, so they were coerced for certain.
“V-Viscount Noel should be back soon, right? O-O-Once he’s back, we can v-visit the library together.”