Devastation: A Beauty and the Beast Novel

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Authors: M.J. Haag
Tags: Classics, Fairy Tale, love, beauty and the beast, beastly tales
cheeks
warmed in response.
    “Of course,” he said. “Tell me what needs to
be done.”
    I straightened, putting distance between
us.
    “Please speak with your teacher and inform
him he will have students starting tomorrow. There are seven aged
between four and twelve. Most cannot read. He should start teaching
after they’ve eaten. The children are not to be given work during
their schooling hours, and Mrs. Palant’s children aren’t to be
given work by anyone other than their mother.
    “Also, if possible, we need three of the
five men to focus on hunting and fishing. We need a larger quantity
of game to store in the next few weeks.”
    Unable to maintain eye contact any longer, I
cleared my throat, and met my father’s gaze.
    “Father, I need you to work with Mr. Crow
and determine a guest list from Konrall and the Water. Mr. Crow
said that, in the past, they filled the ballroom. I’d like to be
conservative with the invitations while still meeting Rose’s
requirements. Next year, we can pack the room. As soon as you have
a count, please let me know.”

Chapter 5
    The daunting task of cleaning loomed before
me. Even with the extra help, cleaning the ballroom, parlors,
dining room, and main sitting rooms before the feast would be
difficult. But not impossible. Since Egrit, Mrs. Palant, and the
children would remain occupied with airing the attic until after
dinner, I meant to make some progress in the ballroom yet that
day.
    In the laundry, I filled several of the
large, empty vats and started a fire in the pit under the first
one. Everything in the ballroom and parlors needed a dusting and a
washing. Hot water would make the task easier.
    Mrs. Wimbly’s voice reached me as I stepped
into the hall.
    “Seven more mouths to feed and she
influenced Lord Ruhall to dismiss one of my staff? What is that
woman thinking?”
    I quickly moved away. Her tasks, to keep us
fed and to store enough food for the feast and the winter, would
not be easy. Yet, we couldn’t afford more help for her. I hoped we
wouldn’t find ourselves missing a head cook.
    In the ballroom, I stopped to look around
and plan. The room needed more light to clean it properly. I
checked the parlors and found the same problem. Though I was
tempted to yank the curtains open, I did not. They were filthy like
everything else and needed to be removed. I stared up at the hooks
that held the drapes to the runner above the window.
    “Need help?” Alec’s quiet voice startled me.
I turned and found him just behind me, scowling up at the
hooks.
    “The curtains here and in the ballroom need
to be removed, beaten, and washed.”
    “Are you sure they will survive that?” He
reached around me and plucked at the dust covered fabric. His arm
brushed against mine, sending a tingle of awareness through me.
    I moved away and studied the material.
    “I hope so.” The estate couldn’t afford to
replace them and winter without them would be chilly.
    “I’ll have one of the men come in with a
ladder and remove them after sundown. Perhaps you can join me for
dinner, and we can discuss the details of what you plan.”
    “Certainly. Father can join us and share his
progress on the guest list.”
    He gave a small sigh before he left the
room.
    I had an hour at least until dinner. Best to
put the time to use.
    * * * *
    “He sent me looking for you,” Egrit said
from the door. Amusement laced her voice.
    I straightened, and my spine made a loud
cracking sound. The furniture of the first parlor now sat in the
ballroom. It had taken much effort to pull the pieces out, and more
effort still to roll up the large rug that dominated the space.
    “I think he expects you to dine with him,”
she said.
    “Yes. Of course.” I brushed my hands on my
skirts. “Are Mrs. Palant and the children settled in?”
    “Yes. And fed.” Amusement changed to barely
contained laughter. “Are you going like that?”
    Looking down at myself, I saw dust had made
a muddle of my skirts.

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