A Tale of Enchantment

Belle stood and stared at the gloomy mansion in front of her for a long while, her single bag gripped in a white-knuckled grip. This was her family’s last chance. If he ended up turning her away, if this didn’t work out, her family would most likely end up starving on the streets.

Lifting her chin, she clung to her determination. She wasn’t going to fail this, things were going to work out. They were due a break and if this ended up not working out, she’d find something else. She was smart, she could do it. Taking a deep breath, she broke her paralysis and climbed up to the door. The bronze door knocker was heavy and she struggled for a minute before managing to worm her fingers underneath and lift it. She rapped it firmly three times even as the heavy door seemed to absorb the noise.

She waited several minutes and was just about to try knocking again when the door slowly opened on silent hinges. An aging butler stood there, his expression stern. Swallowing hard, she said as calmly as she could manage, “Miss Belle Devereux. I have an appointment with Mage Master Novak.”

He looked her up and down and she nearly bristled, only managing to keep calm by the thinnest of threads. “You are certain that you have an appointment?”

She nodded, lifting the letter bearing the mage’s seal. “Yes, although the appointment may be listed underneath my father’s name, Benoit Devereux.”

This seemed to spark some sort of recognition and he stepped back to permit her entry into the house. The entryway was as gloomy as the exterior, dimly lit by a pair of candle sconces nestled back into the wall. The butler spoke, “If you will wait here, I will inform his grace that you have arrived.”

She nodded, “Thank you.”

He didn’t acknowledge her thanks, simply turned and disappeared down into the house. Once she was certain she was alone, Belle let out a small sigh. Ok, the first obstacle overcome, actually getting into the mansion. Now, she just needed to figure out how to plead her case. She’d been turning the matter over in her mind for the past several days since they’d learned of the predicament but none of her mental arguments had seemed compelling enough to keep her from being thrown out on her ear.

Noticing her hand beginning to ache from the tight grip, she shifted the bag into her left hand and tried to discreetly shake out the cramps. She glanced around the entryway curiously but couldn’t really see any difference from any other great house that she’d visited with her father in the past, although one would think that a Mage Master would have better lighting than this almost damp gloom that pressed in on her from all sides. Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers and it wasn’t like she had a lot of options should this fail to work out.

She had just started shifting impatiently when the butler returned, an inscrutable expression on his face. “His grace will see you now.”

Words deserted her, not that she could force them out of her suddenly dry throat anyway. So she merely nodded and fell in behind the butler, making sure to keep her step as light as she possibly could. Making noise seemed like a taboo in this place, the silent walls looming around her as the butler moved ahead of her like a wraith. She paused for a moment, overwhelmed by a sudden urge to flee and not look back lest the house swallow her whole.

However, the sight of the butler’s back moving further away from her drew her from her stupor and she hurried after him. She couldn’t afford to lose this chance, slim as it might be. Thankfully, the butler didn’t seem to notice her brief hesitation, moving throw the halls at the same, measured pace. After what seemed like an eternity but was no more than five minutes, he stopped in front of an imposing oak door. “You may enter. Please do not keep the master waiting, he does not tolerate those who attempt to waste his time.”

Conflicting emotions crashed through her. Abandonment from the butler, he could’ve at least shown her into the room or announced her. Fear and second-guessing herself, there was still time to flee before she had seen the Mage Master. Determination, she would see this through no matter what, she had to, for her family’s sake. And finally, a kernel ofdread and hopelessness lodged itself right next to her heart, making it painful to breathe for a moment.

With the ease of long practice, she pushed them all down and locked them away. In their place, she pulled forward a false confidence and gave the butler a small smile of thanks. Now that she thought about it, it was probably better that the man didn’t accompany her anyway, the fewer people to see her probablehumiliation, the better. Taking a deep breath, she tapped lightly on the door twice before pushing it open and stepping inside.

To her surprise, the room before her appeared to be an ordinary study. Unlike the entryway and the long hall, this room was brightly lit by mage light fixtures, giving the room a warm golden cast. A fire crackled merrily in the fireplace and she found herself momentarily surprised that it was a regular fire instead of a mage fire. However, the scent of burning pine gave the room a pleasant scent and the warmth was most certainly welcome on such a dreary day. So absorbed was she in noting all of this that she entirely missed the large presence sitting behind the enormous mahogany desk.

A low growl snapped her from her observation and she swiftly turned her attention to where the Mage Master sat, only to startle slightly as she finally took in his form. For behind the desk sat not a man as she had expected, but a creature-like man. Or a man-like creature. She stared for a long moment before shaking herself from her stupor and glancing down. That was unpardonably rude of her, to just gawk at a high-ranking mage like she was some sort of street child.

Keeping her back straight and her eyes appropriately lowered, she dipped into a deep curtsy, “Dawn’s light, Your Grace.”

The silence lasted for a long minute before he finally replied, the words rumbling out of him in a deep growl, “Twilight’s repose. You may rise.”

She made her way over in and stood in front of the desk. His return greeting had given her permission to meet his gaze, so she lifted her eyes until she could see him again. Upon second glance, he was not as frightening as her original glimpse had indicated. Yes, he was not completely human in appearance but neither was he frighteningly hideous. Instead, he appeared to be a weird amalgamation of a human and a black lion. He was covered with fur and his hands were clearly paws, the tips of what were undoubtedly razor-sharp claws peeking out. Not only that, but his head was the head of a lion, replete with mane, but his golden eyes had a fierce, human intelligence shining in his eyes. However, he stood, or sat in this case, upright like a man and was dressed like any other mage or noble of the realm.

Still, an aura of threat hung around him, everything proclaiming that this man was dangerous and that one should cower and hide if one wanted to survive being in his presence. The gleam in his eyes dared her to open her mouth and say something foolish, she could almost see the growl trembling his whiskers, begging to voice his displeasure to the world clear for everyone to hear and to know.

Unfortunately for him, Belle was too desperate to back away from the obvious threat. Instead, as she often found when she was faced with opposition, the blatant dare only firmed her resolve. Finding her voice, she spoke softly, not wanting to hurt him where his hearing was undoubtedly keener than a normal human’s. “Your Grace, I’ve come to speak with you concerning the letter that you sent five days ago to my father, Benoit Devereux.”

He broke the stare he had pinned her with, seemingly surprised by her statement. “And why does your father dare send his daughter to speak in his stead? Does he think that the Monster Mage will be lenient on you or your family because you are a woman? Is he that much of a fool to ignore my call? Or does he believe another’s summons of more importance than mine, the highest Mage Master in the realm?”

Her fingers tightened fractionally on the handle of her bag at the title ‘Monster Mage’. The title had begun quietly circulating roughly half a year ago, in hushed and hurried whispers when people thought themselves safe from observation. At the time, she had thought that it referred to his magical abilities, he was renowned for his apparently limitless reserves of magic. However, having been granted an audience, she had become of the belief that it was his visage that was being discussed. Had he been cursed?

However, as fascinating as that subject was, her family’s current survival was the more pressing matter of importance at the moment. Sensing his growing ire, she chose her next words with care, knowing that one wrong move might condemn her entire family. As a merchant’s family who had fallen on tough times, their station was decidedly below that of Mage Novak’s. Should he accuse their family of attempting to harm or antagonize his house, they could all be summarily arrested and executed.

“My father does not even know that I am here, Your Grace. No one besides my eldest sister knows of my visit here and even she is not aware of the reason behind the trip, only that it is a matter of some urgency. The only one who has seen the contents of this letter is myself and I have spoken of it to no one.”

Reaching into her cloak pocket, she drew out a letter bearing House Novak’s seal and set it on the desk, ignoring the slight tremble of her fingers as she did so.

He snatched it up and scanned it over, seeing that it was indeed the letter he had sent. His voice lowered, becoming dangerously calm. “How came you by this? How were you able to unseal it? None but your father should have been able to open it or read its contents, I spelled it myself. And choose your words very carefully, for if I dislike your answer, you will die where you stand.”

Magic flared around him and the small hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. A chill raced down her spine as it felt like an angel of death was standing at her shoulder, waiting for her to dare to move or speak. Death had never been such a reality as it was in that moment.

Her knees trembled and her voice trembled when she managed to force it out, “I have not spoken to anyone of the matter contained in the letter, nor will I. But in return for my discretion, I wish for yours in return. My father could not read or answer your letter because he literally cannot, not because he wished to anger or slight Your Grace. Two weeks ago, my father fell afoul of a powerful witch who was offended by the translation of a tome that he had completed at her request. She cursed him, Your Grace. For a year and a day, he will neither be able to comprehend anything sensible nor be able to respond intelligibly. He has been reduced to a simpleton and there is naught that we can do to undo it except wait for it to expire.”

His hand unflexed, the claws disappearing back into his enormous paws. “As unfortunate as that may be, that does not explain how you accessed this letter?”

Here came the sensitive part of the matter that had brought her to a Mage Master’s manor. “Since my father has no male heirs, he had to take additional safeguards to ensure the safety of his children. He named me the heir to all of his business and holdings using binding magic, that way if he should die or become incapacitated, I would be able to take over his duties and help provide for the family. Since you had addressed the letter to the master of the Devereux family, it should’ve naturally gone to father. However, the magic recognized me as the master of the family because of the current situation, allowing me to read the letter.”

The magic eased and she gulped a shaky breath. Straightening her spine, and when had her shoulders curved inward, she continued. “Since the issue you mentioned in your letter seemed of some urgency, I came to propose an alternative deal to the one you proposed in your letter, Your Grace.”

He drummed his fingers impatiently on the desk, although the pads muffled the sound. “And what possible deal can you offer me? Your father is the one renowned for magical tome repairs, there is not another of his caliber on this continent and the matter cannot be delayed to search for one from another continent. Not to mention the danger of such information falling into the hands of one not loyal to the realm.”

Back on familiar ground, Belle said calmly, “My father trained me since I was a young girl in such matters. If Your Grace agrees, I will fulfill the contract in my father’s place. And in recognition of your generosity on this matter and the fact that I am a mere hedgewitch compared to a journeyman Mage like my father, I am willing to accept ten coppers per week instead of the ten silvers like you offered in your letter.”

It chaffed her to make such an offer, it was a tenth of the amount that her father could’ve earned simply because she was female and her magic was considered weak. But even that paltry sum could keep her family from starving as her sisters worked to rebuild their father’s merchant business with the help of her brother-in-law.

To her surprise, he appeared to be considering her offer. “And what proof can you offer me that you are capable of such a feat? Your father has an established reputation but there had never been the whisper of your involvement.”

It had galled her that they had had to conceal her assistance but it had been better in the long run. If she had known how things would turn out, she would’ve endured society’s scorn and made it clear that she was just as talented as her father. However, she had been prepared for his doubt. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a worn tome containing her family’s heritage of recipes. It had been handed down from mother to daughter for generations and had become worn and damaged over the years.

She set it carefully on the edge of the desk, keeping her voice humble. “It is said that Your Grace is able to trace the subtlest of magics. I have brought a sample of my work for you to examine and you can determine if it is genuine or not.”

He reached for the tome only to freeze when he knocked the inkwell over, sending ink cascading across the papers scattered across his desk. He cursed, scrambling to salvage the situation but it was too late and the damage was already done.

He snarled, “Half a day’s efforts, for nothing.”

Sympathy stirred in her, it must’ve been nearly impossible to try and hold a quill in his paws. That he had managed at all was a testament to his tenacity and that he had produced anything legible was a miracle. Before she could think, she asked, “May I?”

Anger flashed clearly in his eyes at her daring but he shoved the mess at her.

Praying that she wasn’t making a fatal mistake, she carefully pulled up a tendril of her magic, coaxing the ink from the page and back into the inkwell. It took nearly ten minutes to clear all of the ink but at the end of the time, the papers sat on the desk in their original pristine condition.

Letting out a small sigh, she stepped back away from the desk and permitted him to examine her work. He scrutinized it for several minutes, examining it from every angle before setting them aside. “Very well, you have one week to prove to me that you are capable of taking your father’s place. If your work is acceptable, you shall sign the contract for the weekly sum of ten silvers, not coppers. It is a rare skill and I will not cheat someone of their due. However, should I find your skills lacking, you will return to your family and will owe me recompense of five gold for wasting my time and effort when I could be searching for someone with the necessary skills. Is this acceptable?”

It took everything she had not to gape at him. Five gold coins was an astronomical sum, it could be used for one of their dowries and they could marry well for that amount. However, her family did not have that kind of money. Maybe back when her father was a successful merchant but most certainly not now. That only left her with one choice, she could not fail to impress him.

She nodded, “I accept. Light bless you for your mercy, Your Grace.”

He pulled on the cord behind his desk. “You are excused. Tell Gerard that I said to give you a room before showing you where you are to work. If you have any questions, write them down and he can deliver them to me. I’m a busy man and don’t have time to constantly be answering questions, so I advise you to only ask in great need.”

Tucking her tome back in her bag, she dipped into another curtsy before turning away and heading to the door, relief flooding through her and making her light-headed. Or maybe that was the fact that she hadn’t eaten that day. The fact that she had survived and that she had accomplished her impossible mission made her bold. She paused at the door and said softly, although she was certain that he heard her. “Have you ever tried to write with your claws? I imagine that it is nearly impossible to hold a quill and your claw tips are as fine as any quill tip would be. Just something to think about.”

Then, knowing that she had used up her entire life’s allotment of luck, she opened the door and fled the study.