One Lump or Two?
The young master was getting worse every day.
Mrs. Potts frowned slightly as she removed the whistling teapot from the stove.
When he was born, Adam had been a fine, happy baby. After serving a master and mistress as volatile as theirs, the staff was eager to dote on an innocent child. True, he wasn't a perfect baby. Adam had a natural stubborn streak and, when he didn't get his way, a bellow that belied his size and called to mind the roars that sent maids and servants scurrying away from the presence of the royal couple in tears.
Underneath it all Mrs. Potts knew that the young master had a good heart.
The boy was growing up, though, and it was getting more and more difficult for Mrs. Potts to deny that the child she had cared for since birth was becoming more callous and selfish. His mother was evident in his shouts, and his father in his sullen attitude. Every day he became more like them.
Unlike the other servants, Mrs. Potts refused to accept Adam's transformation as inevitability. She knew in her heart that he could be saved. She only prayed it wasn't too late.
A bell rang, summoning a servant to the master and mistress's chambers.
Behind her, Mrs. Potts heard a maid groan.
"How long will they be sick? It's been weeks!"
"It shouldn't be long, now, dear," Mrs. Potts soothed.
Lumiére's cheerful voice filled the room. "Chin up, chére! Show me that beautiful smile."
Few people could resist the Maître d's charms when he was at his most effervescent. Mrs. Potts couldn't help smiling over the steeping teapot as she stirred the tea, the powder from the packet she had poured in dissolving completely. The Maître d was a brilliant actor, able to project a sense of carefree cheerfulness no matter how weary or worried he may be.
She tucked the packet away in an apron pocket. There was the sound of a door swinging shut and then a sigh. Lumiére crossed the room and leaned on the counter, seeming to deflate. He halfheartedly attempted to tidy his hair in the reflection of a silver tray. These weeks had been harder on him than most. He dedicated himself to keeping spirits up amongst the staff, but that was not an easy task when both the master and mistress of the castle were so gravely ill and had shown no sign of getting better.
Minutes of companionable silence passed before light steps sounded in the hall. Lumiére straightened up a moment before the maid entered.
"They're ready for their tea," she reported.
"Coming right up," Mrs. Potts answered. The maid ducked back out into the hall. Mrs. Potts gave Lumiére a reassuring smile.
"Not to worry, dear. I'll take care of everything."