Chapter 10: Dancing with the Monster (3)

　　“First, let’s get a fire going,” Hafen said, turning away from the oppressive gloom.

　　Agreeing with a silent nod, Theo lit the fireplace in the reception room. Dorius put water on to boil in the kitchen furnace, while Hafen and Mikhail began hauling supplies to the pantry.

　　“Grrr. Grraah.” Brillin returned, having lit the fire in Astina’s room and tucked her in.

　　The four men—guests to Brillin, freeloaders to Astina—were working so hard they were sweating in the winter chill. Rolling up her sleeves, Brillin decided to help. She slung a sack of salt and a sack of flour over her right shoulder, tucked a massive ham under her left arm, and picked up a bag of potatoes. In just a few trips, she had moved more than the four men combined, making their earlier struggles seem almost comical.

　　As she dusted off her hands, an embarrassed Hafen felt compelled to say something.

　　“That was… impressive, Countess.”

　　“Grrr.” It was the first compliment she had received from anyone other than Astina since she was twelve. Brillin let out a soft rumble, shyly brushing back the fur below her ear.

　　Seeing her bashful reaction, Hafen felt an emotion that caught him completely by surprise. As she scratched behind her perked ear with a big, fluffy hand, he thought she looked… cute.

　　“Countess, that was very endearing.”

　　“Hmph?” Brillin froze, blinking her large red eyes.

　　The same eyes he had once found so terrifying now seemed almost gentle. With her mouth slightly agape, tiny white fangs peeked out from behind her plush lips. Her little black nose, he noticed, was damp and rather sweet. Looking closely, he realized she had many charming features, just on a grander scale.

　　Why had he only seen her as scary before?

　　As Hafen tilted his head in thought, Brillin’s skirt suddenly swished.

　　“Hmph!”

　　“Huh?” A wagging tail flickered from beneath the fabric before disappearing again.

　　“Countess, do you have a tail—”

　　Before he could finish, Brillin let out an incomprehensible cry of “Grrr!” and bolted outside. A cold winter wind gusted through the open door. Staring after her, Hafen turned to Mikhail.

　　“Did I make another mistake?”

　　Mikhail clicked his tongue, chiding his clumsy master.

　　“You asked a lady if she has a tail. Of course you did. You have to apologize to her, politely.”

　　But it was such a cute and fluffy tail, Hafen thought. He couldn’t understand what was so offensive, but he knew that with ladies, even trivialities could become grave insults. Nodding at his loyal subordinate’s counsel, he went after Brillin.

* * *

　　The bowl slipped from Brillin’s grasp and shattered on the floor. Dorius, who had just finished sweeping up the last broken dish, stared at her.

　　“Grrr.” Brillin scratched the back of her head in embarrassment, but neither Dorius nor Mikhail could meet her gaze.

　　It was the third bowl she had broken while trying to “help” them prepare dinner.

　　Dorius shot Mikhail a desperate look. Unable to bring himself to speak to Brillin directly, Mikhail nudged Hafen in the ribs. Hafen cleared his throat and approached Brillin, who was crouching down, grumbling as she tried to pick up the shards.

　　“Countess, you don’t have to help. Please, go rest.”

　　“Grraah.” Brillin firmly refused.

　　As the lady of the house, she couldn’t stand idly by while her guests worked.

　　Though he couldn’t understand the words, Hafen guessed her meaning and shook his head seriously.

　　“Dorius doesn’t like to be disturbed when he’s cooking.”

　　At the mention of his name, Dorius looked up, his eyes meeting Brillin’s glowing red ones. Unlike his master, Dorius was still terrified of her. His eyes were wide with the effort not to look away, but Brillin seemed to misinterpret his expression. Her ears drooped.

　　In truth, Dorius loved having help in the kitchen. As Brillin turned away dejectedly, he shot his master a pleading look.

　　Hafen just shrugged at his men and led Brillin out of the kitchen.

　　“Instead, why don’t you help me with the rooms? Can we use any on the first floor?”

　　“Grrr, rawr.” The guest rooms are on the second floor, she tried convey.

　　“Right, so I can just pick one. I’ll take the room with the fireplace. Where are the blankets?”

　　“Grraah.” I told you, they’re on the second floor.

　　“How kind of you to offer a tour,” he said, misunderstanding yet again.

　　To an outsider, it would have seemed like a perfect conversation. Chuckling at the prince’s easy charm, Theo suddenly realized that Hafen, his potato-peeling partner, had subtly vanished, leaving him with a mountain of spuds. The peeler felt heavy in his hand.

　　“Sir Theo,” Mikhail said, his timing impeccable, “the water will boil soon.”

　　“I’m peeling,” Theo sighed, resigning himself to potato hell.

　　Hafen returned just as dinner was ready, announcing that, thanks to Brillin, their sleeping quarters were prepared. It would take time for the long-unused rooms to lose their musty smell, but dusting them off and filling them with warmth had made them perfectly serviceable.

　　By then, the sun had set. A lavish meal, the likes of which hadn’t been seen in the castle for years, was set upon the table, its delicious aroma spreading through the halls. As the sounds of voices and a growing warmth began to thaw the frozen castle, Astina awoke and came downstairs in search of her sister.

　　Following the lively chatter to the kitchen, she found Brillin sitting at the table with the others. They didn’t dare sit too close, but Hafen, Theo, Mikhail, and Dorius were all sharing the table with her, deep in conversation. Hafen and Theo were bickering while Mikhail placated them like children. Dorius was ensuring everyone had enough to eat, and in the middle of it all, Brillin was smiling.

　　The others might not have noticed, but Astina, who had spent years studying her sister’s every expression, knew it instantly. It wasn’t the faint, apologetic smile she sometimes wore, nor the sad one that haunted her even when she laughed. This was a smile of pure, unadulterated joy.

　　An indescribable emotion washed over Astina, and she clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. It was a strange, conflicting feeling, a mix of happiness and sorrow. Brillin was happy. She couldn’t join their conversation, but she was a part of their warmth, and she was enjoying it.

　　The sight filled Astina with so much joy, and so much guilt.

　　Tears streamed down her face. She wiped them away with the hand that had covered her mouth and began to back away. But before she could disappear into the shadows of the hall, Brillin saw her.

　　“Ruff! Grrr!”

　　The sudden, powerful growl startled everyone. They followed Brillin’s gaze to the entrance. Astina’s form, at first just a silhouette with only her feet visible, was slowly revealed as she stepped into the light. The tears were gone, replaced by a carefully constructed mask of indifference.

　　“Brillin.”

　　“Grrr. Grrr?”

　　“Yes, I slept well. Were you waiting for me?”

　　“Grrr. Grraah.” Brillin pulled out the chair beside her, beckoning Astina over.

　　Theo gave her a nod, while Dorius and Mikhail rose to serve more food.

　　“Did you sleep well, Young Lady?” Hafen asked with a wave.

　　Astina ignored him and walked over to Dorius. After confirming he was holding Brillin’s bowl, she gave a slight nod, then placed her sister’s special spoon and fork before her.

　　“Grrr.” Brillin beamed, her growl a clear thank you.

　　Her sister’s bright mood was infectious, and Astina smiled back. She still didn’t understand what was happening, and she wasn’t sure that letting these people stay was the right decision. But Brillin was smiling, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

　　A simple but delicious meal was laid out, and the six of them enjoyed a deeply satisfying dinner. Astina, in particular, was stunned. The quality was worlds apart from the meager meals she had always prepared.

　　“Who made this soup?” she asked.

　　The quiet Dorius shyly raised a hand.

　　Astina smiled gently.

　　“It’s delicious. You’re a very talented cook, Sir Dorius.”

　　As Dorius scratched the back of his head, embarrassed, Mikhail chimed in good-naturedly.

　　“I prepared the ingredients, Young Lady.”

　　“You worked hard, Sir Mikhail.”

　　“And I peeled the potatoes, Young Lady,” Theo added, joining the warm atmosphere.

　　Astina chuckled and praised his efforts as well, which prompted Hafen to open his mouth.

　　“I also—”

　　He trailed off. He had abandoned the potatoes and spent the time cleaning rooms. Finding himself with nothing to boast about, he fell silent. Astina watched him for a moment before giving a slight bow of her head.

　　“Thank you, Your Highness.”

　　Though she avoided his eyes, her expression prim, Hafen was satisfied. Their first night together passed in a surprisingly pleasant atmosphere. Rain fell overnight, a winter shower that melted the snow and soaked the frozen trees. The next day, the sky was brilliantly clear.