Page 5 of These Violent Delights

“You should marry her,” his uncle said.“Gain control of the castle.”

“If she'll have him,” his friend said with a smirk.“The plains ladies might love him, but what is that to a foreign-raised girl?She might have funny ideas about what's appealing.”

“She might be ugly,” his old weapons instructor said doubtfully.

“Let's go find out,” the chieftain said.

The Beast Queen had flooded the grasslands with briar wolves.They had eaten the game and were constantly attacking the herds.His people were tired and in danger of starving.They were herders, but they needed a secure stronghold.

They needed a castle.

The problem was, the lady essentially was the castle.They could not be separated.She could be tricked and seduced, but if she was dead or unwilling, the castle was useless to them.They needed an alliance.A marriage was one possibility.

His friend clapped him on the shoulder and looked at him sympathetically.“Don't worry, buddy, all cats are gray in the dark.”What he meant was, if she was ugly, turn out the lights at bedtime.

The chieftain snorted.His friend was practical like that.

***

ZELDA RELUCTANTLY OPENEDher eyes.She had slept better than expected, but she was sore today.

She contemplated the dangling flowers over her head.They glowed with firefly lights, gently bobbing among the blossoms.They had been dark when she went to bed, so she assumed this was the castle's way of waking her up.

Swinging her feet over the bed, she slid into the furry slippers and robe that had conveniently appeared, wondering how much magic these actions took.Hopefully, very little.

The briar wolves had torn up her battle ram and scattered the goods in her saddlebags.Their nasty black drool had ruined most of her meager belongings.

She had only the clothes she'd been wearing, and those were filthy.The castle had produced a flannel nightgown for her last night, but she was wary of letting it use too much of her magic.She had many things to do and didn't want to waste it on minor things.

But maybe magic was like a muscle.Maybe she could build it up, and these little exercises were useful?She had no one to ask, so she was just going to have to find out the hard way.If she suddenly collapsed after the castle cooked breakfast, then that would be a sign.

She glanced at the closet door, a faint memory stirring.She had peeked in there yesterday, but fatigue had clouded her thoughts, and she hadn't bothered to investigate it thoroughly.The details were hazy.She remembered finding the nightgown—it was the first thing she saw when she opened the door—and that was all.

Curiosity piqued, she opened the door again.This time, it was like stepping into another world.The closet turned out to be a walk-in, complete with enchanted lanterns that cast a soft, warm glow.As she stepped inside, expecting to see a wall, the space expanded into a massive room.Racks of clothes and mannequins displayed garments of all kinds, curated like some sort of magical museum.Plaques beneath the clothes informed her of which ancestral lord or lady had worn each piece.

The collection was impressive, and she couldn't help but wonder who had put it together.Some long-dead lady of the castle, perhaps?Or was it the castle itself, inviting her to choose something to wear?

Unfortunately, the ladies' tastes ran toward extravagant and occasionally dreadful.There were feathers and sequins and exotic fabrics galore.Plunging necklines and sheer dresses.“Did these people enjoy looking stupid?”she muttered.

“Not at all,” a cultured voice said behind her.

She shrieked with surprise and spun toward the threat, her hand going to a non-existent knife.She hadn't expected to be attacked in her closet.

The speaker was small, brown, and furry with a yellow belly.He came up to her knee when he stood on two legs and wore a brown utility belt.He looked like the world's fattest squirrel crossed with a beaver.

He looked at her quizzically.“I beg your pardon, I didn't mean to startle you!Allow me to introduce myself.I am Digger, and I will be your castle consultant.”

“What are you?”she asked, astonished.She'd never met a talking animal before.

He drew himself up proudly.“I am a rock chuck.My family has served the castle for many generations.We are experts on all things pertaining to it.”He waved a paw.“To answer your earlier question, these garments were high fashion back in their day.Of course, the ladies of the castle tended to make the fashion.”

She grunted.They had horrid taste, then.Still, she didn't want to be distracted from this unexpected visitor.“How did you get in here?”

“The castle let me in, of course.It wants you to be happy and comfortable, and it wanted you to know you could choose any of these clothes you like.”

“You talk to it?”

“Indirectly.My people are experts on rocks and dirt.What is a mountain except a large pile of it?”

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