Page 22 of Glass Hearts
“That won’t be necessary, Zia,” is all I say as I try to look at anything or anyone but her.
“If only Belly didn’t fuck up our lingerie. It’s probably all still wet. She is so incompetent. Can’t get good help these days. It’s no matter, I have some dry backup garments I can pack. I think you would enjoy unwrapping me.” She runs her long manicured finger down my bicep.
“Belly? Why do you call her that?”
“Well, isn’t it obvious!?” Zia laughs. “She is a bit on the chubby side. You would think with all the work we give her, she wouldn’t have a pooch like that. I feel sorry for the farmer our mother wants to marry her off to.”
All I can do is shake my head, a sigh escaping my lips. Zia couldn’t be more wrong, not by a long shot. Arabella’s body has the soft curves, lines, and delicate strength I’ve always desired. You can tell by the calluses that she has had a hard life with the Baudelaires. Yet she still indulged in many hors d’oeuvres at the ball. Despite the untouched plates around her, she savored every flavorful moment. She appreciates all that there is in life.
But we can’t have Arabella.
“It’s too bad we couldn’t ship her off like we had planned. Though I suppose it will be good to have her help at the castle.”
“She will not be attending to you, Miss Baudelaire. We need different help than serving attendants.” She is my thief to watch. I want to keep her close to make sure she steals nothing else. It’s notjustbecause I want to get her away from these awful people.
“Hmm, I guess if she is still within the castle, her dreaded curse won’t affect Mother.”
“A curse?” Curses are quite rare these days. Many of the enforcers have successfully been able to imprison the villainswho doled out brutal curses. So how could Arabella, who looks to only be in her mid twenties, be under a curse?
Zia rolls her eyes. “All the more reason to ignore the whore, my Prince. Belly’s father, on his marriage to my mother, added the stipulation that Belly was to find a husband. That my mother would guide Belly. Yet all that did was chain her to us. If my mother and Belly are apart for over twenty-four hours, they both crumble into severe pain. Like, how could she do that to Mother! She refuses to marry, but Mother will get her off our backs. The ungrateful twat.”
So, therefore, Miss Bernice was going to send her off today to get married. She didn’t want to bring her to the castle. Fuck.
“We’ve got a problem, brothers,” I send through the bond.
They all look at me, but before I can even reply, a red-eyed Arabella walks by. A ratty suitcase in tow. My heart squeezes. All I want to do is dry her tears. She is a puzzle. A very tempting puzzle with many personas. But who is the real Arabella?
“Very well, it appears we are all ready! Shall we head to the castle, my princes?“ Bernice is all smiles, but the expression freezes as she turns to Arabella, her smile twisting into a snarl. “Put the bags in the car Belly, don’t just stand there like a useless sack of shit.”
Arabella reaches for the bags, but before her fingers even brush the handles, we all lunge for the sister’s overflowing luggage.
“It would be our honour to help you sisters out, especially if we are courting,” Koi gracefully interjects and offers no chance for argument as we all set out towards the carriages. By the time we pack the carriage with the sisters’ luggage, there is little room.
“Why don’t you five grab the carriage over there? Wallace will take you to the castle. We will ensure your servant gets there as well.”
Arabella tenses beside Bernice.
“Wouldn’t you rather ride with one of my girls?”
“We couldn’t possibly choose between them, Mrs. Bernice, and you should ride with your daughters. Your servant is of no consequence. We need to interview her regardless to figure out where she will work, anyway.”
Bernice glares at a wide-eyed Arabella. Gone is the confident thief; in place is a weary, downtrodden Arabella. We will have to remedy that. Bernice gets closer to Arabella. All our hackles rise, noticing the predator heading for our woman.
No, not our woman.
“Mind yourself, girl. Don’t get any ideas. Victor will be home soon, and I have been inventorying all your transgressions for him to sort out later,” she hisses at Arabella.
“Who the heck is Victor?”Archer asks through the bond.
Grayer is already reaching for his knife; he looks like he is about to murder Bernice, so I choose to get her separated from the wench as soon as possible. It’s been a genuine struggle to quell his fury, which has been simmering throughout this whole mess.
“We will see you all at the castle, ladies, but we must get going.”
I put my hand at the small of Arabella’s back to direct her to our carriage. I place her so she is in the middle of Archer and Koi. I don’t think it is a good idea to place her by Grayer; he looks ready to devour the little thief. I, of course, next to Grayer to keep him in check.
“Figures you would bring a parade of carriages to pick up my stepsisters,” she scoffs, crossing her arms. Already, she has relaxed now that Bernice is out of sight.
“There’s my sassy woman.” Gray reaches across, giving her a wicked gleam, placing his large hand on her knee. Curiously,she doesn’t remove it. Before he can continue trying to woo the vixen, I interject.
