Page 68 of The Beauty and the Griffin

“After Beatrice’s second appearance, this time in the palace gardens, Niel behaved like a man obsessed. Which, to be fair, he was. Obsessed with a beautiful girl who wouldn’t even be born for decades. Pukai’s first husband had just been killed in a politically and personally embarrassing situation, so our project was a useful diversion for her. Working with her soothed my aching spirit as well. Between us, we discovered a way to indefinitely pause a mortal’s aging process. Only a few evil enchantresses and fiendish mages had successfully accomplished it before, as far as we could tell, and all of them had fallen prey to heroic knights, noble dwarves, plucky servant girls, and, oddly enough, one clever cat.

“Niel, meantime, was embroiled in governmental issues, attempting to prevent a war between two neighboring countries, and assisting in the takedown of a dictator backed by a—”

“We don’t need historical details right now,” Ellie pointed out in her gentle way.

My audience had become restless.

“What happened with your spell?” Briar asked outright.

I shifted in my chair, suddenly reluctant to share the climax of the debacle. “It’s important for you to understand that it was an unstable point in history. If not for that, I doubt even Niel would have persuaded Pukai and me to follow through. During a huge naval battle between two nations, Niel dragged me along to Pukai’s personal island in the South Dynamic Ocean and told us he could wait no longer.”

23

BEATRICE

The griflets were awayfrom the palace for their hunting lessons much of each day, which left me too much time for thinking. Something was terribly wrong at the Forbidden Palace. I didn’t know exactly what, and I didn’t even know how to ask about it. I would have loved to believe I was imagining the changes, but I knew better.

So, I clung to denial. Surely everything would work out in the end. I trusted the Gamekeeper to protect us all.

He still came to the dining room most evenings, but he was quieter, more solemn, and I seldom actuallysawhim. Even when I did catch glimpses of his eyes or his broad shoulders, I had no hint of his thoughts. More concerning than his occasional absences, which I could blame on his duty to protect the Forbidden Palace, was the fact that he hadn’t asked me to marry him all week. Not once.

Did he somehow know about my dreams of Othniel? Had Chicky told him?

I would have liked to ask his opinion about those dreams—they were unbelievably vivid and lifelike. But I couldn’t. I mean, the last thing I wanted was to hurt the best friend I’d ever had. I could never marry him—he wasn’t human, and nothing could change that fact—but in my secret heart I’d been pretty much in love with him since I was fifteen. A foolish crush that I hadn’t yet outgrown.

One evening at dinner, Win was very quiet. Which was concerning. I tried several times to draw her into conversation, but she kept eating and ignored me. At any moment, the griflets would return from the last of their hunting adventures—sort of a final examination—and the Gamekeeper wasn’t here yet. I tried to focus on the dining room’s peaceful atmosphere, the magnificent artwork, and especially the food, but I kept glancing at his empty chair.

I’d just taken my first bite of lemon-curd cake when I heard voices and scuffling and the rustle of feathers in the hallway. “They’re back!” I mumbled around the mouthful.

I barely heard Win say “No kidding” before the griflets burst into the dining room.

Dodger proudly announced, “We graduated!” His voice was deep now, matching his masculine beauty, but my heart still saw him as the clumsy little griflet of a few weeks earlier. “Bogdan says we’re prepared to support ourselves in the wild. I took down a mountain sheep and gave it to the families of our troops.”

“I killed a wild boar,” Chicky added. “It was delicious.” She turned to me. “I shared it too, I promise, Beeetrice.”

“That’s my girl.” My heart warmed. “Who’s Bogdan?”

“Our teacher,” Dodger said. “He’s awesome!”

“He’s very handsome.”

Dodger rolled his eyes at his sister. “He’s too mature for a baby like you.”

Chicky merely preened her breast feathers, fully conscious of her golden splendor. Sometime during the past week, she’d sprouted feathery tufts on her head that resembled outer ears. I wasn’t sure if ear tufts were unique to females. Or maybe only golden griffins had them? I kept forgetting to ask the Gamekeeper. When he was even around.

“Excellent work, both of you.”

Oh! Hewaspresent. My heart skipped a beat or two, partly from surprise, but mostly from relief at the sound of his voice, which still gave me shivers at times.

The griflets visibly puffed up at the Gamekeeper’s praise. “We help fight for you,” Dodger said.

“I do hope it won’t come to that.” The Gamekeeper’s voice revealed so much emotion that all the breath seemed to leave my body, and tears burned my eyes. Why? Why had I reacted so strongly, as if to some tragedy?

“No fighting, you two,” I said by rote, as if they’d been bickering.

“We fight the enemy, not each other,” Dodger protested.

“Most of the time,” Chicky added truthfully.

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