Chapter Thirteen
Mable shot up in bed, her phone alarm blaring and sweat drying on her skin. Wrinkling her nose, she turned off the alarm and worked to calm herself down. The dream had felt so real. The image of the wolf was still in her head, and Mable could still its breath on her face. She licked her dry lips and checked for any signs that it had all been true. But no, her feet were not dirty, her gown mussed only by the covers and sheets tangled around her waist. Sighing in relief, Mable climbed out of bed. It had only been a dream. A horrible dream, but a dream, nonetheless. Mable stretched her arms, trying to clear her head. It had just been a nightmare, nothing real.
It didn't bother her that as she continued to wake up, the dream got less and less vivid. As she went to the closet to take a quick shower, the dream had faded into nothing but a blur.
She showered and dressed quickly, eager to start with a new day. Yesterday, during a short lunch in the kitchen with Labelle, she had asked Monsieur Carnier if he would be all right with her commandeering his kitchen to make breakfast. He had been surprisingly amendable to the idea, telling her that he would be there to answer any questions she had.
Having a chance to cook in the huge, superior had kept her in good spirits all night, even during a somewhat tense dinner with Theo. She was actually hoping that this would help repair some of the awkwardness they had around each other. She had already started to make some friends here; why not add in the Master of the castle?
Her mouth curved in a smile when she walked in the closet and saw a row of jeans in every conceivable color folded and pressed in the corner. It seemed even the closet wanted her to be comfortable here.
After throwing on a soft, grey sweater and one of the new pairs of jeans, Mable exited the closet and waited a moment before using it to get her down to the kitchen. Faithful as always, she opened the door and walked in the shockingly cold kitchen.
"Hello?" she called out. There was not any of the normal noises or shouting from Monsieur Carnier. The ovens weren't even on.
Frowning, Mable checked the time on her phone. It was still very early. Perhaps they were still in bed. Well, that didn't mean she could spend the time getting acclimated to the new appliances.
But what to make? Mable rooted around some of the cupboards, searching for inspiration. She found it in the breadbox, in the day-old loaf of bread.
What better breakfast to serve on an enchanted castle with French-accented servants than French toast? Chuckling to herself, she went about finding the other items she would need.
Mable found silverware and plates in a pretty, little china cabinet near the door—the door that led to the dining room. Cinnamon was found on a spice rack right next to one of the humongous, gleaming stoves. The ingredients that needed to be chilled were in a box-like object that was reminiscent of a box-freezer. Though, as Mable studied it, she had to think that it wasn't because there was no plug, or any form of electricity. In fact, it didn't even leak, like the box-freezer she had at home.
Perhaps, this too, ran off of sheer magic.
It took her quite a while to figure out how to turn the stove on. It definitely wasn't electric, but she had never used a gas stove before—and frankly she wasn't sure if this was either. After several moments of frustration, and several curses, Mable found some matches, and just used one to try and light the damn thing. To her delight, it worked, and stayed lit when Mable placed the pan on it.
Amazed by her own brilliance, she almost missed the chefs as they wall walked in, baskets of eggs and milk in their hands.
"Lady Mable! I didn't expect you down here so early." Monsieur Carnier boomed at her, making her jump.
Mable gave him a bright smile. "Sorry, I didn't know if I should just…"
"No, no. You go on." He waved at her cheerfully. "The rest of you, put those things away and get started on the breakfast for the rest of the castle. Hurry, now."
Mable kept one eye on her dish and the other eye on the chefs as they scurried about, putting bottles of fresh milk and eggs in the little cold box in the corner or poured dried herbs in little containers.
"Did you find everything all right?" Margot asked. Monsieur Carnier was already off on the other side of the room, booming at one of the other chefs to find the butter.
"Yeah, pretty much. Though I was kind of surprised you had everything. I mean, I know I saw the farm a few days ago, so I knew you had milk and eggs, but I didn't realize you had other staples like flour or cinnamon. Does Madame Cecile grow those in her greenhouse too?" Mable had been startled to find all the dry ingredients in a tiny closet off next to the box freezer, fully stocked.
"Actually," Margot leaned close to Mable as she dipped a slice of bread into her egg and cinnamon wash, "it's the castle. We learned shortly after the curse that, even though we were using the flour, sugar, and other ingredients in the pantry, they never seemed to get used up. Even when we were on our last spoonful of flour, the next morning when we awoke, it would be completely full. Carnier says that it is the castle, taking care of us."
"But the eggs and cold stuff?"
Margot shrugged. "I suppose, like most magic, it has its limits. So, we continue to collect milk and eggs from the farmstead next door, but we never run out of things we would have had to send someone to the market for. Even coffee." She grinned when she saw Mable whirl to the teapot one of the chefs had placed on the opposite stove. "It should be ready in a few minutes."
Mable finished up her tasks, enjoying herself as she cooked and talked companionably with the pleasant Margot. Even Monsieur Carnier, after he was done bullying the rest, came over to take a hesitant bite.
The kitchen held its breath as he chewed, considering.
He frowned for a moment, and Mable winced. She could make French toast relatively well, but that didn't make her a gourmet chef.
He swallowed and his face cleared. "Well done." He told her. From the beaming smiles of approval from Margot and the other chefs, Mable got the impression this was quite the compliment. "Do you require anything to serve with it?"
Mable started putting two pieces of French toast on plates. "People usually have syrup, and maybe some fruit or whipped cream on top." She said and blinked when three chefs brought over those exact toppings.
"Excellente." Monsieur Carnier said and smiled at her warmly. "I must admit, I was hesitant when you told me that you wanted to make breakfast on your own. In all my years here, no Lady has ever wanted to try her hand at cooking."
Mable watched as two chefs started to carry her dish, along with a pitcher of juice and coffee, out into the dining room. "I'm not a Lady, Monsieur Carnier." She told him firmly. "I'm just Mable." She relented after a moment and returned the smile. "And I'm not much of a chef, so that's probably the best dish I will ever make here." She wasn't used to making food from scratch; most of time, whatever she cooked came from a box or a can.
"Well, I'm sure Master Theo will still enjoy it." Monsieur Carnier said easily, giving her a gentle nudge out the door. "He should be there now. Why don't you go sit and my people will serve you?"
Theo was indeed at the dining room table when she was shoved into the room and blinked at her sudden appearance.
"Why were you in the kitchen?" he raised his furry brows at her.
"I, uh, made breakfast." She stammered. She sat down on the opposite side of the table, silently hoping that Maddie or Monsieur Lune would arrive soon to dispel the awkward tension between her and her breakfast companion.
His gold eyes narrowed at her. "You made breakfast?"
"She did, indeed." Monsieur Carnier said cheerfully, placing a plate of French toast before him.
"What is it?" asked Theo suspiciously.
Mable sat at the other end of the table, sipping coffee and watching Monsieur Carnier serve a plate of French toast, along with syrup and butter, to his Master with wicked enjoyment.
Theo's face held a myriad of emotions; shock, trepidation and, Mable noticed with glee, a little curiosity. He glanced down the table at her. "You know how to cook?"
"I've known how for quite some time now."
"And when did you make this concoction?" Theo demanded.
"This morning, early this morning, while you were still snoozing. I never pegged you for a late riser, Theo." Mable swirled her coffee smugly.
"I awaken quite early, for your information," Theo said with dignity, "I just prefer to sit in the quiet."
"Oh, just try it, why don't you? It won't bite."
Theo picked up his fork, and with deliberate reluctance, took a bite. He chewed, thinking. Mable and Monsieur Carnier stared at him like hawks, waiting desperately for an analysis. After an unreasonable amount of time, in her opinion, he swallowed, and nodded assent. Apparently, that was all Monsieur Carnier needed for a compliment, for he sighed with happiness, kissed Mable's hand and ran back into the kitchen shouting in what could only be French.
Mable wasn't as easy to please.
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Feeling all right? No internal bleeding? No fever or other unsightly diseases out-breaking from one bite of something you didn't know existed?"
Theo swallowed another, much larger, piece of toast. "No, it is quite good actually. Not that I thought it would kill me," he added, at Mable's raised eyebrows, "What has caused this sudden descent into the culinary arts?" he finished quickly, shoving another bite in his mouth.
"It's…kind of a thank you." Mable fiddled with her glass, suddenly feeling shy.
"A thank you," he rumbled, "for what?"
"For helping me. For understanding how much I want to get home, and for agreeing to find a way to make it happen. I don't think I thanked you for it before. I know everyone wants this curse broken, especially you, so it couldn't have been easy to offer to help me escape when you can't do the same." She took a deep breath, her face flushed from the kitchen and embarrassment, "You gave me hope, and I don't think I can ever truly repay you for that."
This stunned Theo speechless. He sat there, fork raised halfway to his mouth, gold eyes staring straight into hers across the table. Waiting for some sort of acknowledgement, Mable was forced to sip the last of her coffee and hope franticly for a distraction to break the awful silence.
That distraction came in the form of Maddie. She bolted into the room, bright as a sunbeam in her red sweater and tan skirt. She shot into the seat next to Mable. "This looks wonderful, Mable!" she inhaled deeply. "I've never had this before." To Mable's amusement, she drenched her dish in syrup and started to eat.
The awkward moment gone, both Mable and Theo smiled at each other as they finished their own breakfasts.
As she took a bite, Mable thought that Madame Cecile was right. Working in the kitchen and making a meal that everyone had seemed to enjoy had raised her confidence. When Monsieur Carnier came in later and asked Mable if she wanted to help them with dinner, she gave Theo a smug smile.
"I'd love to."
That confidence helped, because later that day she found it wavering as she, Theo, Labelle and Maddie all sat around the library searching through books and scrolls. No breakthrough was reached, no spell was found. Mable slammed her book shut with disgust.
"Do not fret, Mable." Labelle said, trying to soothe. "I'm sure we shall find something."
"It's hard to believe it right now." Mable sighed and placed the book with the rest of unhelpful ones. "We've been in here for a few hours and haven't seen so much as a footnote on some spell that we can use to sneak me out through a crack in the spell."
"It sounds like you could use a break." Labelle got up from her chair, where she had been reading. "Why don't we go for a walk, and clear our heads?"
Mable frowned at the pile of books that never seemed to shrink. "Sure, I guess. Where should we go?"
Labelle flushed, her dark eyes brightening. "Do you like horses, Lady Mable?"
Mable blinked up at the other woman. "Yeah, I've asked my dad for a pony once or twice, so I guess so."
"Wonderful!" Labelle looked positively delighted. "Why don't we take a walk out to the stables? A stroll through the fresh air is just what we need. Want to come along, Maddie, Theo?" she turned to Theo and Maddie, who were crouched over a scroll in the corner.
"I do!" Maddie hopped out of her chair. Theo seemed a little more reserved.
"I think I'll stay here, if it's all the same." He rolled up the scroll with a snap. "It's too cold out there for me. But tell Jacques I said hello." Mable was startled when he sent her a cheery wink.
"I'll let him know." Labelle's eyes were shining. "I'll just go fetch us some winter garments and be right back. Maddie, dear, escort Mable to the kitchen door?" Without waiting for acknowledgement, she bustled out of the room.
"What's so exciting about the stables?" Mable asked. Maddie and Theo were both smiling knowingly.
"Oh, it's not the horses." Maddie snickered. "She just wants to see Maestro."
"Who?"
"Jacques." Theo rumbled. "He's the captain of the castle guard. The men call him Maestro, because he is truly a master of the sword. He usually sticks around the barracks this time of year; says he doesn't want his men to go soft on him just because it's snowy and cold out."
"Labelle loves Maestro." Maddie said in a singsong voice. "She's been getting all sorts of depressed because he hasn't come to visit for a few days."
"I'm guessing I'm going to meet him while we're there." Mable tried for a smile. She was only just starting to get comfortable with the people in the castle. How was she going to handle people who used swords?
"Jacques is a fine man." Theo told her. She suspected that he guessed how she felt. "We grew up together, much like Labelle and I did. I think you will like him, once you meet him." There was an undertone to his voice that Mable couldn't pin down. As if he wanted her to meet this Jacques, but he didn't want her to at the same time.
"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Mable asked him.
Theo smiled at her. He had started doing that more, and Mable was unexpectedly starting to like it. "Yes, yes. You go. I'll clean up here and have it organized so we can try again tomorrow."
Mable glanced around the room, at the books and the scrolls that had been thrown haphazardly everywhere. "Good luck."
"Come on, Mable." Maddie was already at the door. "We best go before Labelle gets there first and decides to go on her own."
Mable blinked in the bright light that washed in with the wintry air. There was a well-shoveled path leading into the woods, but aside from that, everything seemed colorless underneath the white of the snow. Mable walked out, hastily jerking on the warm gloves she had been given. It was a good thing there was a path shoveled; the three of them would have been exhausted if they had to wade their way through towards the stables, wherever they were.
Mable spun in a slow circle, feeling lost. There were no barracks, or stables, or any buildings that she could see, and she hadn't run into any last time she was out here.
"Where's the stable?" she asked, wondering if there was something she'd missed. What, were the buildings magically invisible or something?
"Oh, it is a little way into the woods, we just have to follow the path," said Labelle brightly. She tugged the collar of her black coat up to the top of her chin, shivering slightly. "Come on, you two. I don't like the cold."
They started walking towards the side of the castle with the ballroom veranda, towards the east, but Mable noticed that the pathway led away from the woods and directly across from the castle, a few feet from the direction Mable had gone in a few days ago.
"I like the cold," announced Maddie gaily, "It means snow, and snow means fun!" With an impish gleam in her eye, she scooped up snow from beside the path and hurled it straight at Mable, who ducked just in time.
No stranger to snowball fights, Mable got her own handful of snow and threw it at Maddie, laughing. The two shrieked and giggled as they ran recklessly down the path, each grabbing as much snow as she could and chucking it at the other. They graciously tried to keep Labelle out of it, but when Mable was aiming a well-made snowball at Maddie, she felt something thump her back. Turning, she saw Labelle standing, feet poised in a battle stance, her eyes lit up with fun, and her hands already forming another snowball.
The three of them raced down the path, throwing snowballs and darting to avoid being hit. Mable's cheeks stung in the cold, but she was breathless with laughter. She hadn't had this much fun in a long time.
After a few moments Mable saw the stable from a small incline. A rectangular, one-story building, it's whitewashed walls made it nearly invisible in the snow. There was an empty, fenced ring off to the left. No one had bothered to shovel it out, Mable saw; she could only see a few footprints where humans had stopped by the fence, but no trails from any bigger creatures. As they got closer, Mable saw the building was an T shape, with two halves of the building jutting out to the sides.
"The barracks." Labelle said when Mabel asked. "The stables, and the inside ring, are here in front, and towards the back of the building is where the guard live. About twenty men in all."
"They live out here by themselves?" Mable asked as they pulled open the sliding stable door. The smell of hay and horse immediately met Mable's nose, and she sneezed. Stalls lined the spacious, dirt walkway, snorts and whickers coming from inside as the horses discovered newcomers in their midst.
"Oh, they come to the castle every once in a while, to flirt and for social events," Labelle waved her hand dismissively. "But they prefer to be out here, on their own. Jacques has his own quarters in the castle, but like his men, he prefers being out here."
"It doesn't sound like you'd get to see him much." Mable commented. There was no denying how excited Labelle was to be here. Her cheeks were flushed with more than cold, and her eyes were shining. She took off her hat and hung it on a peg right inside the stable door, patting her hair and rearranging her skirt.
Maddie rolled her eyes and made a gagging sound.
"He comes to the castle every few days." Labelle ignored Maddie's commentary. "I try to come here when I can, but I rarely get the time." She smiled ruefully at Mable. "Being trapped in the same place for so long means that we are not quite as eager to spend all our time together, as we once did."
Mable's response was cut off by a large, hairy nose poking out of one of the stalls doors.
"They are eager for attention, are they not?" laughed Labelle quietly as she patted the horse's nose. Maddie had already wandered down the stable towards another horse, which was nuzzling her palm gently.
Mable looked into the stall on her right and jumped back when the horse stuck its head out to investigate. She held out her hand nervously, knowing very well that horses could bite. The horse was a mishmash of colors: brown, grey and black splotches all over its neck and torso, with bright brown eyes that studied her with keen interest. It lipped her palm daintily, making Mable giggle.
"That's Palette. We called her that because she has so many different colors, like an artist's palette." said Madame Labelle from behind her. "She's one of the gentler ones. These are the riding horses. The battle horses are down bit further, but we won't see them. They are not quite as sociable as these lovelies." Madame Labelle patted Palette's forehead.
Mable smiled as the horse sighed in contentment. "She is very pretty."
"Oh, they all are beautiful creatures. Bred from the finest stallions and mares money could buy." replied Labelle airily. She took Mable's hand, "Come, you should be introduced to Jacques. I think you'll like him." She pulled Mable away from the horse and down towards another door.
Both women shrieked with surprise at the tall, dark figure just one the other side