Beauty & Desire *on hold*

3

The next morning, my father still is not home and I am undecided if I am pleased or frustrated by his absence. I do not particularly wish to speak to him after last night just to hear him tell me he lost more money, but I want to yell at him as well. Irresolute, I go on my normal route at dawn soaking in the sun. It is warmer day than we have been receiving, as it is getting closer to the winter months. I pass the merchant's store and after a second thought I turn into the building searching for a heap of blond hair. I spot it underneath the counter and I walk over to ram on the stone top. I hit it quite hard with my fist startling her. She shoots up knocking her head against the rim of the counter and mutters a curse as I giggle.

"Claire, you're such a heathen! Didn't you see me underneath there?"

"I did," I reply. She rolls her eyes at me but reaches over and gives me a brief but firm hug.

"Where have you been? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."

"It hasn't nearly been ages, maybe a week," I drawl on.

"Absurd. It should never be that long." She swings onto the top of the counter sitting right in the middle, her bare feet dangling underneath her skirts. "So how do you fare?"

"Oh same old, same old," I respond nonchalantly as I lean against the counter next to her.

"You know, I been singing at the fancy tavern lately, the Olde Ye Ship," she tells me her nut brown eyes twinkling with excitement.

"Why would you go there?" I say imagining a stuffy room filled to the brim with gollumpus, unruly men with their cups of ale.

"Why to see the men of course," she giggles twirling her sandy hair. I huff in protest rolling my eyes.

"You'll never guess who I saw."

"Alright amuse me, who?" I respond back.

"The beast," she tells me fanning herself.

"The beast?" I ask questionably.

"Oh come on Claire, do you never listen to gossip." She looks at me her tiny nose twisting in frustration. She grunts and then pushes off the counter to stand.

"Lucien Salvatorn, the tavern keeper of the Olde Ye Ship tavern and several others. He's the one who's father was murdered. Remember that corrupt greedy man everyone despised," she says peering expectantly over at me.
I nod my head vaguely recalling who she is talking about.

"Half the town believes Lucien did it and the other half is madly in love with him."

"Did it? As in murdered his father?" I ask appalled and slightly terrified at the accusation.

"That's just town talk. No one actually knows anything. He's innocent." She says and I look over at her my eyes wide and she glares at me. "He is Claire," she grinds out crossing her arms.

"Sometimes I think your affinity for crushes overcompensate your need for reason."

"Oh don't be a daft cow, Claire. He would have been arrested if he was guilty," she informs me. "Forget I said anything about it," she waves her hand.

"Aye" I mutter exaggeratedly.

She ignores my expression and leans back. "He is just such a good-looking lad, Claire! You would agree if you saw him. And he's so wealthy! He owns three of the well-to-do taverns in town and is still a bachelor. How could that be?" She exclaims clearly smitten as her eyes fill with longing. "We must go and visit him! We do not know how long he will be in town for. He only stops in to check up on his taverns and then leaves. He apparently does not have any friends in town so he never stays long," she explains.

"But doesn't he live in that castle deep in the woods?" I question her.

"Yes he does," Beth nods exuberantly her hair bouncing.

"So doesn't that mean he lived here all his life? Isn't it weird he doesn't have friends?" I ask again befuddled.

"Well it is probably because he is modest. I hear he is very closed-off."

"Yeah I already don't like the sounds of him," I declare decidedly.

"Well I no longer have a chance of marrying royalty since the Royal Marriages Act that only allows the King to approve who marries his offspring," she says. "Basically, Lucien is the closest I can even get to feeling like a princess."

"Of course because that totally makes sense," I remark teasingly.

She turns up her head snottily. "I much rather you not like him because than I can keep him all for myself and not have to compete with you to be his wife," she admits proudly.

Her father strides in that moment and gives us a questioning look, but he spots a customer and scurries over to the other side of the store in whispers.

"Any road, I have to go Beth. I'll see you soon."

"Alright, but no more weeks between," she wags at finger in my direction. "I will pretend I no longer know you and ignore your existence in town," she tells me stubbornly.

"Yea, yea," I utter but give her a goodbye hug and wave to her father who gives me a nod back.

I walk into our village that is exceedingly loud this morning. Running a couple minutes later than normal, I push through walking speedily, ignoring the hush of whispers as I walk past.