forgotten

[mute_pen]

It's past dark, but when you need the outhouse, you need the outhouse.

Isabel picks her way across the yard of her father's house in the moonlight, hoping to sneak back into bed without waking him.

Comments

[growcrooked]

Nona shrugs.

[mute_pen]

"Well," sighs Etty, "no need to hasten the experiment, I'm sure to trip and scrape my knee soon enough."

[growcrooked]

"Do you do that a lot?"

[mute_pen]

"I'm very clumsy. Even when I'm not adjusting to an unfamiliar body."

[growcrooked]

"Oh." She shrugs again.

[mute_pen]

Etty's hands twist together. "Do you suppose it will help," she says, "if I fall in love with you?"

[growcrooked]

"I don't know. It might. Do you want to?"

[mute_pen]

"- There are reasons to want to. Overall I haven't added them up yet."

[growcrooked]

"Okay."

[pythbox]

All of a sudden, the curse gives Etty another inexplicable feeling.

This one is very insistently directional.

[mute_pen]

Etty stiffens.

"I think I have to go," she whispers, and she lurches to her feet and stumbles in the direction of the gate.

[growcrooked]

"Good luck," Nona whispers back.

[mute_pen]

Etty's shaking by the time she exits the orchard. She trembles her way in the direction the curse pulls her.

[pythbox]

The Baron is waiting by the lakeshore, wearing his owl-cape.

[mute_pen]

Etty slows down as she gets closer.

She does not - quite - stop, till she's about five feet away.

[pythbox]

He beckons her closer. The curse doesn't have anything to say about that.

[mute_pen]

She considers asking him what he wants.

But it's clear - at least in terms of what she is meant to be doing right at this moment - what he wants.

And she'll find out the rest of it.

She edges closer, shuffling step by shuffling step, keeping wary eyes on him.

[pythbox]

"Are you comfortable, my swan?" he inquires.

[mute_pen]

There are so many ways she could answer that.

She swallows, considers which ones will have the least effect on her ability to experiment with others effectively later, and says, "Yes."

[pythbox]

He nods, as though he expected that answer.

"Come up to the castle with me," he says, offering her his arm.

[mute_pen]

Etty has settled on a general strategy of pretending that this is some kind of civilized and appropriate behavior to which she does not strenuously object. This might make things go smoothly; if it doesn't she will assuredly have opportunities to try other things.

She links her arm with his, swallowing.

[pythbox]

The Baron smiles, a not especially pleasant expression, and leads her to the main gate. It swings open silently at their approach, and just as silently closes behind them.

They proceed in this way up to a dining hall, where he seats her on his right; he, of course, takes the seat at the head of the table. At a careless wave of his hand, all the dishes fill themselves with food.

[mute_pen]

So she's not going to be consistently obliged to live on fruit from the orchard, nor will she have to work out what swans eat. That's - well, she'll decide how good it is after he's done with her. She watches him, waiting for instructions or an example to follow; she has never eaten at a noble's table, let alone this one's.

[pythbox]

"Eat well, my swan," he says, and starts in on his food. He does not at least seem to hold himself to any high standard of table etiquette.

[mute_pen]

Etty concludes that she can serve herself, so she takes samples of everything and tastes them.