story- Earl Swan (5)

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part 5 of 6
-5-
In another week’s time, it was made public that the heiress Lady Parade would be wedding the Honorable Sir Juan Baker. As Des’ ladies’ maid, Bri was of course expected to attend. She was to arrange the household staff for that bright day, except she was not enthused at all.
For one, she was busy with trying to turn the poor transfigured earl back into a man. She carried the earl swan with her through the house sometimes, and the staff at first feared for her sanity. But Des allowed for it, as it was something she and her new fiancé found amusing.
Des had tied a bow about the bird’s neck to easily tell it apart from the other swans. But soon it was clear that the animal had no need for a bow, because he took to following Bri inside most of the times, much like a dog.
She was sad on the first evening when she served the bird left-over chicken and then realized the horror of it.
“No! I’m so sorry, my lord!” she declared taking the plate away.
Bri detected some sadness in the animal at the table. She had almost forced Orion into cannibalism. Instead, she took out stale bread and gave them to the sad bird.
“I’m sorry for everything…” she told him as he ate.
The other staff must have watched on with wide eyes and concerned spirits.
As for Des’ Indian henchmen, Bri had not seen or heard from their head butler Puli in quite some time. In fact, he had disappeared around the same time as the earl, Bri noticed. But there was nothing she could make of it just yet.
At night, she refused to send the swan back out to the pond so she filled the extra tub with lukewarm water and let him paddle in circles until he flew out at the bedside and went to sleep.
In her spare time, she researched the reversal of hexes. She took the swan with her wherever she went, for she feared Des would kill and cook him if she turned her back. Now, when she met the heiress’ eyes she was fearful.
One evening as she ventured to the library with the swan shadowing her, she bumped into the heiress.
“Ms Salud? Good evening,” she gave a small nod to the bird, “My lord, how are you?”
“That is not funny,” Bri interjected. “Do not mock his position.”
“Why not? He mocked mine when he slept with my closest friend.”
Bri gave pause to this. No, she would not be swayed to apology now. She had already apologized after all, as did Orion.
“I am sorry you have felt betrayed. Now this evening I will ask you what I have every night for the past two weeks—“
“No, I will not change him back.”
“You can’t, can you?” Bri taunted. “You toyed with magic you don’t even understand, didn’t you?”
“I could if I wanted to,” Des whispered. “Don’t speak too loudly. The maids already want to send you to Bedlam.”
“You’re the one who belongs in a straightjacket, my lady.”
Bri glared at Des’ chest then, in search of any change. Des’ eyes widened slightly and for a moment her façade was cracked. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing, my lady. Excuse me now, I am going to read.”
“Don’t forget your beau.”
Bri fumed and marched into the privacy of the library. She already had a stack of books prepared for further reading. She had tried many things, such as waiting for the full moon and magical potions to free Orion from the spell. From what she read of mortals changed to beasts, their lifespan would extend somewhat longer than the average beast, but not by much.
She took a break from the books of folklore and myth, and visited the section on animals. She turned to a collection of bird watcher’s statistics and held her breath. She found the number of years for a healthy male swan and she dropped the book where she stood. She collapsed, sliding down the bookcase and finally wept.
She had doomed Orion to such a short life. She had taken away his voice and his mobility. She had even stripped him of his name and dignity. She wept for a long time there in the dimly lit library, into her hands.
She felt a nip at her ear and turned to see the earl swan staring at her. She collected it into her arms and cooed, “I’m so sorry, Muffin. I’m so sorry.”
Outside, hidden some ways in the surrounding forest there was a tree where Bri had etched a drawing of a woman. She had driven a nail into the effigy’s chest several nights ago and each night, as the ritual told her, she drove it in deeper. Her final hope was to kill the witch that had cursed her lover and perhaps in turn free him from the curse.
Tonight, she drove the nail in one more peg. But she recalled, as she lowered her hammer, that Des showed no signs of weakening.
She looked down to her bird companion and frowned. “Perhaps she will turn me into a rat. And then we will live about the same time, muffin…”
On the day of the wedding, Desdemona Parade had never looked more stunning. Brigid Salud had overheard some of the Indian servants discussing slaughtering the fattened swan for a meal, and they did so in their native tongue, not knowing she was fluent. She heard one of the men ask “How do I know which swan is the loon’s pet?” to which the other replied “It has a ribbon tied around its neck.”
Bri stole many ribbons from the dressing room then and ran to the pond. She decorated all the swans she could grab with them and arrived back to the house smelling of dirty pond bird. Her reason for not just removing the earl swan’s ribbon was that he was clearly the largest swan and would probably still be picked out. She instructed the earl swan to remain in the pond with his kin, so to avoid being cooked.
Then she was off to help Des prepare for the wedding.
“We are thinking of children’s names,” Des spoke idly as Bri helped to tie her corset. “I like the name Mercy but I think it is too common.”
“I would name a girl Hippolyta if you want uncommon,” Bri told her, pulling the laces extra tight.
“I would not ask your opinion on this matter. I am only thinking aloud to settle my nerves. Your marriage failed and produced no children.”
“I have a child,” Bri corrected her.
“What?” Des’ eyes widened in the body mirror. For a moment, Bri thought, the heiress really was pretty, when she was not acting. “You and Lord Arteberry had a child?”
“No, I was pregnant when I was a young girl and came to England from India,” Bri told her with a shrug, “I gave the child to proper parents. She never needed to know she was the result of cruelty.”
For once, Des had no dramatic face to offer and Bri was glad. If only she could shock the woman more often.
“I did not know.”
“You never asked,” Bri reasoned.
The hour of the actual wedding arrived. Bri happened to see her former husband Lord Arteberry in the reception, but she avoided him by wearing a blue veil and being amongst the bridesmaids. Arteberry was speaking to a tall, pale-haired woman who also wore a veil of white, concealing her features. Surely, he was trying to woo her. Bri rolled her eyes and proceeded with the wedding. Despite Des’ proclaimed hatred, Bri was, in fact, the maid of honor, donned in blue and bedecked with flowers.
But whispers from the other women were making her livid. The outdoors reception was nettlesome because it was windy and Bri was afraid for the earl swan. She counted Des’ Indian servants and noticed one number missing. She could not help but suspect that the man had gone to the pond in search of Orion. Or perhaps it was only Puli, missing as he had been for weeks now.
The ceremony became gloomy for Bri, as she thought of the fleeting nature of life. How long did a bird live? But really, how long did a man live? She was weeping when Des and Juan took their vows and kissed. Nobody thought a thing of it, because it was an occasion to cry joyously.
At the reception, a sumptuous feast was sprawled out across many picnic tables and the nobles gathered together to make small talk. Of course, Des’ wedding was large and immodest. Nothing about Des was subtle, after all.
From across the yard, the tall woman she had spotted earlier was walking towards her. But the cook had arrived and blocked Bri’s view. He set a tray on the picnic table and pulled off the top. People began to gravitate towards the main course but Bri let them pass her. She was like a dead woman standing as they shuffled past her and she stared, the blood draining from her face.
A large roasted bird was the main course.
© 2010-2011 Luz Briar.