Puss in Boots (Timeless Fairy Tales Book 6) (7 page)

“Good.”

Gabrielle was scooping the last bit of stew out of her bowl with a roll when Lena reappeared. “Would you like more stew—or more eggs?” She looked back and forth between the pair.

Gabrielle swallowed wrong and shook her head. She coughed and drank a slug of the apple cider Lena had insisted on giving her.

“If you will forgive my inquiries, where is our fine host?” Puss asked.

“Jakob has gone with a band of the village men to look into the bandit hideout. They intend to bring the bandits back here so they can be sent to Castle Brandis for a trial,” Lena said with a cheerful smile before she turned her attention to Gabrielle. “How many honey cakes would you like?”

“Honey cakes?” Puss asked, sounding intrigued.

“None!” Gabrielle was quick to say.

Lena pursed her lips together in a sign of disagreement. “None?”

“None. Puss and I were just going to see if we, uh, could help with the repairs and clean up.”

“It is unnecessary. By returning our animals to us, you have done more than enough,” Lena said, one of her eyebrows quirking.

“Oh, no,” Gabrielle said, scooping Puss up and staggering to the door. “We insist. Puss loves showing off his abilities. It is our pleasure.” Gabrielle almost tripped over her feet under the plain but formidable woman’s gaze. She felt like a trapped rabbit. She had to flee, or soon Lena would be bathing her in cow’s milk and pouring for her their finest cask of wine!

“If you wish,” Lena said, the tone of her voice clearly communicating that she expected to stuff Gabrielle with honey cakes at a later time. “But at least allow me to send my daughter with you. She would gladly act as your guide. Annika!”

A little girl of eight or nine scurried out of the kitchens. She stared at Gabrielle and Puss as if they were princes mounted on white stallions, but she was eventually able to rip her gaze from them and look to her mother.

“Lady Gabrielle and honorable cat, this is Annika, my youngest child.”

Much less intimidated by the child than by the iron-spined mother, Gabrielle smiled at the little girl. “Hello, Annika,” she said.

Annika’s mouth dropped open, and she gaped at Gabrielle until her mother twisted her around to face her. “Take our honored guests to the cooper’s, and if you see Gert, tell him to come home—the goats need milking.”

“Yes, Mother,” Annika cheeped like a little wren.

“Off you go,” Lena said, affectionately brushing her daughter’s cheek and nudging her in Gabrielle’s direction.

“Thank you,” Gabrielle said to Lena before she darted out of the door, breathing easier in the smoky-scented streets. “You’re walking,” she said to Puss, dropping him on the ground.

“Ingrate.” Puss twitched his tail from side to side and sidled away from Annika. The little girl was rubbing her hands together, as if trying to resist picking him up.

“Your mother said to take us to the cooper?” Gabrielle said after several moments of silence.

“Yes! Right this way, your grace,” Annika said, trotting down the street.

Gabrielle grimaced at the title but followed her petite guide through the village, stopping just outside a charred storefront.

Several young men stood there, conversing around one of the weight-bearing beams of the store. They fell quiet as Gabrielle and her guide approached.

“Lady Gabrielle, what can we do for you?” asked a man who couldn’t have been much older than Gabrielle.

“It’s just Gabrielle.” She raised her shoulder several inches as she warily eyed the men. “I was wondering what I could do to help.”

“Help? You’ve helped us plenty already, my lady,” another of the young men said, offering her a kind smile.

Gabrielle swept her eyes across the group, watching for a smirk or a leer. She detected nothing. “Perhaps, but I am staying the night at Lena’s insistence, and I don’t like to be idle,” she said.

One of the young men—the first one who greeted her—released a hee-haw of laughter. “Lena’s pushing you around, is she?”

“Hartwin!” Annika said in her shrill little voice. “Don’t you insult my mother!”

The man, Hartwin, playfully stuck his tongue out at the little girl. “My sister is about, Annika, if you’re looking for something to do.”

“I’m not. I’m Lady Gabrielle’s guide,” Annika said, puffing out her chest.

“Ho-ho! How the meek have been elevated,” another young man chuckled.

“If it pleases you, my lady, I was about to begin repairing some of the doors. I could use assistance, if you are not opposed,” Hartwin said, returning his attention to Gabrielle.

“Not at all,” Gabrielle said. “What do I do?”

“Why do you keep looking about as if you fear Baba Yaga will jump out from the shadows of a building?” Puss asked, curled up in a patch of sunlight as Gabrielle nailed crude hinges onto finished doors.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Gabrielle smacked a nail with a hammer.

“Liar,” Puss said. He yawned, flashing his white teeth. “You leap at every odd noise. What is wrong?”

Gabrielle set aside her hammer for a moment and looked down the street. Villagers were helping one another—setting doors, replacing siding, sweeping up debris. Their faces were tight, but they still laughed and told jokes. Any who noticed Gabrielle watching waved or smiled. “It’s very…odd.”

“What?”

“No one seems to dislike me,” Gabrielle said.

“Dislike you? Why would they do such an asinine thing? You restored their belongings to them.”

“Yes, but, I’m still…”

“Yes?”

“I’m still beautiful,” Gabrielle said.

Puss chuffed. “And you accuse me of having a large ego? There is a phrase about a pot and a kettle that I feel would be quite appropriate here, if only there were a kettle worthy of being compared to the likes of me.”

“My entire life I have been hated and liked
too
much because I’m beautiful. I
abhor
the way I look. It has wreaked havoc on my life. Whenever I cross paths with women they despise me, and men I would rather avoid pursue me relentlessly. There is nothing good about the way I look! But these people…they’re friendly. I haven’t heard one snide comment, and no one has made any advances, or inappropriate comments, or touches.”

“What do you expect, Gabrielle? You’re a hero to them.”

Gabrielle waved the hammer in Puss’s direction. “I am not a hero.”

“Oh, very well. You are a champion, a rescuer. The point is you have done nothing but help them. Why
would
they spurn you?” Puss tucked his paws under his chest.

“If that’s the case, why did everyone in Ilz treat me so poorly?” Gabrielle hammered a nail in with more force than necessary.

“Did you
do
anything to make them look favorably upon you?” Puss asked.

“What?”

“You seem to require that I frequently repeat myself. As I previously stated, you have aided the villagers of Wied. What about those belonging to your hometown? Did you ever save their animals or their coin?”

Gabrielle was silent.

“What about something smaller? Did you help anyone repair their doors? Hm? You didn’t.”

“That’s no excuse,” Gabrielle said.

“It isn’t,” Puss agreed. “Kindness should be extended to all. But if you embraced your status as a hated woman and did nothing to change anyone’s mind, you must admit there is a chance things could have played out differently. The villagers of Wied are gracious to you because they believe you are kind and valiant to the point where it outshines your beauty. Your looks are the icing on an already delectable cake—you are their storybook hero. I wager if you acted similarly to all you meet, none would be able to refuse you whatever you ask.”

“You are
hatefully
smug,” Gabrielle grumbled.

“It is the price one pays for being so intelligent and superior,” Puss said, his voice saturated with glee.

Gabrielle shook her head and pounded another nail in. When she looked up, she saw Annika and another little girl—Hartwin’s sister, most likely—staring at Puss with longing.

An oversized smirk crawled across Gabrielle’s lips, and she said, in her most inviting voice, “You may play with Puss and pick him up. He
loves
to be petted.”

“What?” Puss said, twisting around, but he was too late. Within moments, Annika and her little friend swooped in and picked him up.

Puss’s ears went flat as the girls stroked his glossy fur with dirty hands and spoke to him in pleasant, high-pitched voices. “Traitor,” Puss growled at Gabrielle.

“It would be selfish of me to keep you all to myself, Puss,” Gabrielle said before speaking to the girls. “I left my burlap sack in the taproom of the Green Ivy Inn.”

“You wouldn’t,” Puss said, a hint of a wail edging his voice.

“If you look inside, you will find a pair of boots. They belong to Puss—he does enjoy dressing up,” Gabrielle continued.

“I do not!” Puss yowled.

“Thank you, Lady Gabrielle,” Annika’s friend said.

“I say—unhand me and put me down!” Puss demanded as the little girls carried him off.

Gabrielle chuckled to herself and pounded another nail in.
He’s a good sport, in spite of his loud complaints. If he wasn’t gentle and soft-hearted he could use his sleep charm on them.

“Are you certain it is alright for my sister and little Annika to play with your magic cat?” Hartwin asked as he approached Gabrielle, carrying another door.

“It will be good for him,” Gabrielle said, her self-satisfied grin still smeared on her lips.

Hartwin laughed. “I am glad such an act brings joy to you. I feared you were beginning to regret involving yourself with our silly village.”

“What? No, never,” Gabrielle said.

Hartwin shrugged. “There is no shame in admitting it. Wied is but a small village. I’m sure you have seen much bigger settlements, my lady.”

Wied, in fact, was the biggest village Gabrielle had ever seen. Feeling like a bit of a fraud, Gabrielle flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder. “I’m not a lady. I know my cat said I was, but I’m not.”

“Maybe you have not inherited such a title, but I feel that your actions make you worthy of it all the same,” Hartwin said. “That, and perhaps the addition of a talking cat at your side.”

Gabrielle pounded in the last nail. “Puss belongs with someone better.”

“And yet he chooses to travel with you and calls you his mistress. Have you finished that door?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. I have another, if you are ready.”

“Of course. Will we set all the new doors by dusk?”

“It will be close,” Hartwin admitted.

“Then I will get to it.”

“Do not overwork yourself, my lady. I have no wish to face down Lena should you return to the Green Ivy Inn in a less than perfect condition,” Hartwin said.

“I’m fine. Go get me another door.”

“As my lady commands!”

Steffen was nursing a headache when the royal carriage rolled into Wied, carrying him and his quiet father. Steffen peered through the window, inspecting the village. The sun was gone—either it had already set or it was hiding behind the ominous storm clouds building to the west—but even without clear light, Steffen could see fire damage and newly replaced boards on several buildings, as well as new doors—bright and unused—hanging in ancient doorframes.