The Servants and the Beast by R A Gates & Karen Blakely

Author:R A Gates & Karen Blakely [Gates, R A & Blakely, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781680123081
Publisher: Stonehenge Circle Press
Published: 2019-06-28T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six:

Surely the Next One…

In which the kitchen dreams of better days

“W

hat’s on the menu tonight?” Samuel the stove asked to the kitchen staff at large. He sparked up a large flame inside his oven in anticipation.

We’d all been so excited to cook for people again since the weeping young woman appeared days ago. Not that I do any of the cooking, of course. Iceboxes don’t have the right equipment. “Anything will do,” I said. “As long as it has cheese in it. I’m practically overflowing with the stuff.” Dealing with dairy wasn’t new to me as I was the dairy maid before that wretched good fairy drowned the castle in those pesky sparkles.

“Oh, Frostine,” Marthe the mixer said to me. “How we French love our fromage.”

“Do you think she’d like a nice fondue?” Samuel asked. The pots and pans hanging from the rack above him rattled as a couple fell from their hooks and landed on his burners.

“She might.” I tossed out the fromage and vegetables that had a few good days left onto the cutting board. “At least it will use up all this food.” The knives snapped to attention and chopped up the produce and a nice baguette while Samuel got the cheese ready. The mix of wine and cheese swirling around the kitchen filled me with happiness. Before the curse, our chefs were known for their delicious dishes of duck l’orange, coq au vin, and boeuf bourguignon. But when we were only feeding the Beast, he desired less our fancy culinary feats and eventually preferred simpler dishes and the occasional steak tartare. The young woman’s presence had sparked our creative juices again and brought us back to life, so to speak.

“I’ll whip up a crème brûlée for dessert,” Marthe said as her beaters spun. “It was one of the Queen’s favorites.”

“Calm down, Marthe,” Rouge the black tea towel said as she whirled around the mixer, cleaning up the splatters coming from her bowl. “You’re making a mess to rival the one in the East Wing.”

The kitchen door swung open just as the little tune the dishes started humming had spread to the napkins and candlesticks. Quillsby fluttered in and halted our joyous moment when he shouted, “She’s gone!”

Only the sound of bubbling cheese could be heard after that. “What do you mean she’s gone?” I asked, not wanting to believe that our usefulness could be over so soon. “But she just got here.” It had only been a few days. We hadn’t even gotten to cook the escargot yet.

Quillsby raced further inside and waited for the silverware to crowd around him, ready to hear the story. “That Philippe fellow barged into the castle and whisked her away, even after she agreed to stay with the Beast.”

“Philippe?” I asked. “The one she’s been crying over since she got here? The one who broke her heart?” Why would she give someone who hurt her so badly a second chance?

“Oh, you should have seen it,” Quillsby said, hopping up on top of Marthe so the rest of the kitchen could hear him better.

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