The Beast Within

Ambrosia: Chapter Three

The cottage was humble but well kept. Flowers climbed the outer walls, their faces turned upward to drink sunlight, and there was a garden teeming with vegetables, herbs, and various colorful blooms.

Inside, the space was small, cramped with chests and piles of books, but there was a charm and familiar comfort to it.

Stew simmered in a pot over a modest fire, and the woman offered a bowl of it to the wolf. The portion, I realized, would not fill the animal's belly, so through the wolf's limited words I excused myself and went outside to transform.

"Before you go," my host said, "let me find you some clothes."

She rummaged through her chests until she found a simple pair of pants and a shirt.

"I wore these as a youth," she said with dreamy remembrance, "they should be a good fit."

As I had been content to remain covered in fur and feeling no shame, my castle attire had long been discarded in the woods. I was happy for something new to wear and grateful these clothes didn't have the frills and lace that irritated my skin.

When I appeared in her doorway as myself, the woman's eyes grew wide and her posture stiffened. In a blink, she settled into calm and smiled, then stood from the stew she was tending to. There was more room in the cottage now that I was a boy, with the perfect amount of space to fit two people. 

"I don't want to ruin your clothes," I said, "but these might need patching if I change into a wolf again."

She laughed. "Have you ever considered undressing before you turn?"

It was a simple suggestion, but it stunned me. The notion of sparing my clothes had never crossed my mind.

I blushed and she laughed again.

"Sometimes you need an outside perspective to see what's right in front of you," she said. "But if you ever find yourself in a moment where it's impossible to save your attire, I have a needle and thread that will patch it nicely."

Recognizing an important skill when I heard it, I asked, "Could you teach me?"

"It would be my pleasure."

"Thank you—I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name."

"I haven't given it. Ambrosia. I'm delighted to meet the other half of you, Josiah."

She held her hand out and I took it. Remembering my courtly manners, I bent and placed a gentle kiss on her wrist. When I rose, Ambrosia's face was scrunched in slight displeasure. When I let go of her hand it flew to cover her nose.

"How long has it been since you've had a bath?"

Outside, around a corner of her cottage, Ambrosia filled a basin with water. She handed me a lump of soap and left to give me privacy. It was not as luxurious as the baths in the castle, but I preferred its simplicity. Listening to the sounds of the woods as I relaxed in the water, I was grateful for the chance to clean myself without a dozen servant hands scrubbing my skin sore and drowning me in perfumed oils.

But doubt nagged my peace.

Ambrosia's goodwill was abrupt. She welcomed me into her home and offered food and clothing after only a short greeting.

She was too nice.

Maybe she's lonely, like Jill's ghost, I thought. Or she has a sense of charity like Sampson and Angela—

Who sold me to the circus, in the end.

I considered becoming a wolf and running into the woods to escape whatever plan Ambrosia had for me.