Page 66 of Bianca and the Monsters

Archie’s presence calms me. Pennie’s fierceness supports me. My beloved Bastien is entirely dear to me. But the one I want right now is my Nico. I want to crawl onto his lap, cuddle into his fur, and cry all the tears I have for every one of these monsters aching like I used to ache. My suffering in my world felt like a cruel anomaly, at least if I was on social media scrolling through the curated images of the seemingly blessed. But the suffering here is widespread, like a plague that’s already touched and destroyed every life.

I don’t know what I can possibly do to help them, whether I have the power to do anything for them, but I continue to meet their gazes and nod my head. Every single one of them is seen and I dare to believe that their teary eyes prove that it mattered.

I’m emotionally exhausted when we reach the castle gates, where Remy stands waiting. His sour expression renders words unnecessary. The queen won’t see me… yet.

I turn toward Pennie and Archie. “What do we do?”

“I’ve already procured your lodging,” Remy says, moving closer. “Today isn’t a good day, but maybe tomorrow. I will try.”

I study his face, understanding now that the same longing afflicting all the inhabitants of this city exists in him too. Empathy achieved…darn it. “Thank you, Remy, for trying.”

“I won’t stop. Nico deserves to be fought for.”

“But you don’t believe we can get him back.”

“I don’t believeI—or any other monster—could get him back, but I’m not about to underestimate you, my Lady.”

Chapter46

Bianca

Entering the inn nearest to the castle, apparently the fancy choice for visiting dignitaries, I’m not at all surprised to find it compellingly inviting. The Brooketon Inn wasn’t as posh, but both exude a level of warmth lacking in most five-star hotels back home. I get it now, the deliberateness of the decor and the general welcoming vibe. In response to the affection lacking in their lives, the monsters create pleasant atmospheres in their homes and gathering spaces.

With each step into the main room, my emotional baggage seems to double in weight, the sorrow of all those monsters clinging to me more noticeably. I can’t forget their faces, all so unique though every one mirrored the same desperation to experience a dream that may never be realized. But still, they dare to hope. In that, I feel a kinship with them all, because I too dream of something that may never come.

My dad glances at me, his expressively knotted brow a sign of his growing concern for me and our mission here. I know he doesn’t doubt me, but he hates to see me overrun by sadness, my own or the entire society of sweet monsters who have, without a single word spoken, infiltrated my heart.

We head to my dad’s room first, ensuring he’s content with his lodging. It’s a lovely room, with a massive bathtub already filled and waiting for him. The monster-sized bed is so big my dad will probably feel like a little boy again. I bet he jumps on that thing, pretending it’s his very own trampoline.

“I’m fine, B,” he says, leaning to kiss my head. “Go rest for a while. Nothing needs to happen right now.”

“Okay.” I look at Archie and the innkeeper. “Women can’t be harmed here, but what about my dad? Does he need protection?”

Pennie slides his hand into mine, intertwining our fingers. “Your father’s affiliation with you is now well established. No harm will come to him.”

“I’m good. Now, get on out of here. I have big plans for a bath and a nice, long nap on something that doesn’t have wheels.”

“Dinner will be brought to your room if you don’t venture to the dining hall,” the innkeeper says, a wide, short sort of monster with amazingly impressive and decorated ears.

“See? All good here.” My dad tilts his head toward the door, while staring at Archie, who takes the hint and guides me out of the room.

I know they’re concerned about me, but it’s not me I’m worried about right now. It’s this society that seems hopelessly broken and also where my hopes and dreams exist in the gaping void that seems to have swallowed us all.

I don’t understand why the queen’s grief requires that all her subjects suffer with her. Harsh things have always happened in the course of any life—life can’t just stop for everyone after one person loses someone or something. Or can it? Is it fair to expect an entire society to pay the price for the actions of a few? I clearly need more details about what happened to the queen and her daughter.

But not right now. Right now, I need comfort.

Pennie’s hand remains steady in mine as we enter our massive two-bedroom suite with a bed sizable enough for all of us, even Nico if he suddenly arrives. I lose control of a whimper at the thought and I know exactly what I want after the innkeeper finishes performing his tour-guide duties.

Archie is the only one paying attention to the innkeeper, dutifully learning all about our rooms. After the tour is over and the innkeeper has left, Archie closes the door and latches it, immediately turning his focus on me.

“Tell us.” Pennie’s hand rests on my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear I hadn’t realized escaped.

“I want something.” I know I don’t have to be shy about it, and yet I’m feeling timid, vulnerable even.

“Anything,” Archie says in a deep grumble.

My gaze lands on the bed. “I want all of us to cuddle together and just be. I want to feel safe. I want…” Another tear practically launches from my eye. “I want us all to imagine Nico with us. Our family back together. We’ll rest and then we’ll figure out what to do next.” I search their faces and then add an extremely important word. “Naked.”

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