Pulchritude

by Ana Mardoll

  Realizing that the beast was waiting on her, Bella shook herself from her reverie. She brushed her hands over her dress and fluffed out her skirt to shake off the dust from the road. Steadying herself with one hand on the vanity, she pulled off one shoe and then the other, scraping them carefully against the stone wall to dislodge the dried mud and then slipping them back on to her feet. Unable to think of anything else to do to freshen up, she turned to go, but hesitated. The small silver comb lay on the vanity table, winking at her in the light.

  Her fingers itched to touch it again, to feel the steady reassuring weight in her hand. "This is stupid," Bella admonished herself harshly. "If the beast finds out ..." It was a thought she didn't want to finish. Yet still the comb beckoned to her, glinting and glittering in the sun. She felt a part of her ache for the comb; she had nothing else except the clothes she wore. And the comb could be so useful. If she got beyond the outside gate, if she were in a position to barter a ride ... She stared hard at the glinting ornament, before reaching slowly out to stroke the comb once before deftly tucking it up the long, tight sleeve of her dress. Before she could change her mind, she marched purposefully from the chamber and through the door out of the bedroom.

  The beast was waiting for her patiently in the hallway, standing well away from the door so that she could slip out of the room without touching him. He flashed those sharp teeth at her in the manner she was coming to recognize as a smile and bowed his head slightly.

  "Hungry?" he asked. Bella nodded her head cautiously, and he smiled again. "Follow me, then," he said cheerfully, and he walked down the hall with such long strides that Bella stumbled to keep up.

  As they walked, she studied him from behind with intense curiosity. The beast looked less inhuman from behind. He was still unnaturally tall, with grotesquely thin arms and legs, and strange hooves for feet, but his lumbering gait and the swinging arms at his side seemed more human than animal. She could not decide if his clothes lent him an air of civilization or parody. The too-short cloth sleeves and pants made him look like an adult in children's clothing, and the tears and stains in the clothes made the creature seem dangerous. Still, she decided the clothing gave him a certain dignity. "Without the clothes, he'd seem more monstrous," she decided.

  After several twists and turns, the hallway spilled out into a large kitchen, cold and unused, but with an open door set in the far wall that looked out on to a bright and cheerful orchard. The beast headed straight for the door, but paused mid-stride and looked back at her with an almost sheepish smile on his face.

  "You don't mind eating in the garden, do you?" he asked, a little nervously.

  "Not at all," Bella reassured him. "It's such a pretty day," she added soothingly. She would have agreed just to mollify him, but it was true: the breeze was cool but pleasant and the light clouds that drifted in front of the still-rising sun would provide a nice shade to sit in.

  "Oh, good," the beast said cheerfully, leading her out into the bright garden. "One less plate to dirty," he said. His tone was light, but Bella tried not to stare at his long claws while wondering how such a creature might go about the washing-up.

  When she stepped into the garden, Bella gasped. She stood just outside the castle, and turned slowly in place, taking in the whole of the garden. The orchard sprawled in all directions, and Bella could identify a dozen different fruits and vegetables on the trellised vines, bushes, and trees before her. The leaves were impossibly bright with reds and golds, the fruits looked succulent and juicy, and the scent was so overpowering that her stomach grumbled loudly in anticipation.

  The beast stood under a nearby fig tree, shafts of sunlight sprinkling through the trees on to his dark brown fur, watching her with an expression of open pride. "See anything you like, Bella?" he asked grandly, his gesture taking in the sweep of the garden.

  "It's beautiful," she breathed, and he smiled at the praise. "But ..." she reached out to touch the closest trellis, her fingers brushing gently over the fat ripe grapes. She looked up at him, her face clouded with confusion. "It's too early for these to be ripe," she said, puzzled.

  He laughed his barking laugh, pulled down a couple of figs and tossed one to her. She caught the fruit reflexively, and he bit into his own with relish. "It's magic," he said simply.

  With a startled cry, Bella dropped the fig and backed away from it. "Is that why he looks the way he does?" The thought flashed across her mind, but she could find no words to politely frame the question. Her face betrayed her thoughts, and the beast's face suddenly turned serious.

  "Ah, no, not that kind of magic," he said, shifting his weight from leg to leg uncomfortably. "Not the sort of magic that would, ah, change the eater in any way." He nodded to her reassuringly as she stretched out her hand again, tentatively, to touch a cluster of grapes.

  "This is what you eat every day?" Bella asked, still unsure of the unnaturally bright fruit under her fingertips.

  "Not every day," he said with a shrug. "Sometimes I have a hare for dinner."

  Bella stared at him warily, her thoughts running over those sharp teeth that protruded through his gentle smiles. Suddenly a little ill, she dropped her eyes away from his face and back to the grapes under her hand. "Better this than raw meat," she thought with a gulp, and she plucked a single grape and gently bit into the skin.

  The juice that flooded into her mouth was sweet and clean and good; if there was dark magic in the fruit, she couldn't taste it. Delicately, she sucked the juice and flesh of the grape before quietly dropping the seed on the ground. The beast nodded encouragingly as he watched her eat. "Tastes good, doesn't it?" he asked, and she nodded. "Come on," he said, waving her further into the garden, "I'll pick the higher ones for you and we can eat on the benches."

  Bella followed him meekly through the garden as he happily picked fruits and gently lay them in the little hammock she made by holding the edges of her skirt out. Her blue dress was quickly stained with the juices of the freshly picked fruits and this was a detail the beast noticed with chagrin. Between mouthfuls of blackberries, he said apologetically, "We'll have to get you some more dresses. I think there are some left in the guest bedrooms."

  "Left by whom?" Bella wondered, but she didn't feel comfortable asking him any questions just yet. It was enough to know that he planned to keep her alive long enough to clothe her properly.

  As they sat on the bench eating their breakfast, Bella decided she couldn't be silent any longer without appearing rude to her host. "But how to start a conversation with him?" she fretted. The beast had been jovial enough but his remarks had been limited so far to the goodness of the fruit, the prettiness of the weather, and other such safe topics. Bella decided that it would be safest to start with flattery.

  "Your orchard is so beautiful," she volunteered.

  The beast paused between mouthfuls of fruit. His teeth and tusks were stained purple with blackberry juice, which looked to Bella uncomfortably like blood at such a close distance on the garden bench. The effect was somewhat softened by the tiny fig seeds that dotted the fur around his mouth. "Thank you," he said proudly. "I've always--" he stopped abruptly and looked uncomfortable. "That is to say ... I'm quite fond of it," he finished in a more subdued tone.

  Bella was puzzled by his mood swing, but decided to press on. "You must be a very skilled magician, to make the fruits ripen so early," she gushed.

  Now the beast looked positively glum. "Oh," was all he said. Then, "It isn't very important."

  "Have I upset him?" Bella wondered, worried. Maybe she wasn't supposed to talk about magic ... and yet he'd been so proud of the garden just moments before. Perplexed, she reached into her lap for a golden pear, when the silver comb, now glistening with a slight sheen of sweat and oil, suddenly slid out from inside her sleeve and fell to the ground.

  Bella froze in place on the bench, her eyes glued on the glittering comb lying in the dark earth at her feet. She could tell by the beast's held breath that he had seen the comb fal
l, that he was watching her now. "Act naturally," she thought, fighting back her rising panic. There was nothing more natural in the world than borrowing a comb from one's host.

  Aware that she mustn't make any sudden movements, Bella stooped down and picked the comb up from the ground. Casually, she brushed the dirt from the comb and ran the silver teeth through her hair twice, making a show of patting her hair down from the wind. After restyling her hair, she slipped the comb back into her sleeve, careful that her movements were open and clear to the beast. Only then did she look up and smile at him.

  His expression was guarded, but not angry. She dipped her head in a gesture of acknowledgment and grinned nervously. "I hope you don't mind me using your combs, my lord," she said with as much sweetness as she could force into her voice. "My hair is such a fright if I don't maintain it constantly throughout the day." She tilted her head and tried to look bashful.

  He stared at her for a long moment, his eerie black eyes a mask that she couldn't penetrate. After a moment, he reached forward to cover her hand with his, but stopped and dropped his hand on to the cool stone bench instead. He sighed heavily. "Bella, you are my wife now," he said, and she was relieved to hear no anger in his voice, just a calm forcefulness. "Everything I own is yours: this castle and everything in it." He held her eyes with his own. "Do you understand?"

  Bella nodded nervously. She felt she should thank him, or say something to express the gratitude that this sentiment ought to engender, but all she could think at that moment was that she didn't want the castle. Or anything in it. She smiled reflexively, hoping her thoughts wouldn't show on her face, and he continued intently. "There's just two things I need you to promise. Can you do that for me?"

  "Yes, my lord," she replied automatically, and he smiled ruefully.

  "Well, make that three things," he said, and his ears twitched lightly in the breeze. "First, I beg that you call me 'Ezio'. I'm no one's lord, and especially not your own. I'm just Ezio, your handsome husband." He smiled at his joke, but Bella thought the expression looked forced. "Second, I need you never to touch the roses that ring the estate."

  She stared at him blankly, not understanding what he meant. "The roses?" she asked.

  "Remember your father picked a rose from my hedges?" he prompted. She looked away, not wanting to speak of Father, but nodded for him to continue. "Those roses are worth more than life to me," he said earnestly. "All my plants are," he said, gesturing to the fruits and vegetables around them, "but these are for eating, and my roses are only for looking. You must never touch them, never pick them. Do you understand?"

  She nodded again, before clearing her throat. "Yes ... Ezio," she said hesitantly.

  He rewarded her with a smile. "And the last thing: I want you to take great care around the gate. It was built to keep the wolves off the estate, but sometimes they try to burrow under."

  Bella stared at him. "Wolves?" she said, unsure whether to believe him. Father had never mentioned wolves along his trade routes, but she still didn't know if they were anywhere near his trade routes.

  "Yes," the beast affirmed, holding her gaze steadily and frowning with concern. "They moved down into the forest with the winter, and I built the gate to keep them out."

  "So ..." Bella hesitated. She didn't know how to ask without sounding rude. He nodded kindly for her to continue. "I'm ... not ... a prisoner here?" she asked quietly, her eyes downcast.

  "Oh, Bella." His deep sigh sounded sad. She glanced up at him, hoping her expression was appropriately meek. "You're my wife, Bella," he said tenderly. "This is our home, but of course you're not a prisoner here. If there's anywhere you want to visit, all you have to do is ask." His smile was wide, but his eyes stared at her with an intense expectancy that made her uncomfortable. "Would you like to visit your father?"

  Bella was startled by the offer and glanced down at the ground, trying to collect her thoughts. "Is he seriously offering?" she wondered. And did she even want to see Father again after he'd been so willing to leave her? She shrugged, and tried to look non-committal. "You're so kind to offer, but I don't think I need to visit just yet," she said shyly. "He probably hasn't even returned home from last night."

  Bella hoped her statement would prompt the beast to say that they were actually quite close to her village, but the only response was a relieved smile. "I'm glad you're happy here," he said earnestly. "I only want you to be safe. Please promise me you won't go near the gate?"

  Her mouth felt dry; she swallowed and said quietly, "I promise."

  The beast looked satisfied. He gathered up several figs and pears into his arms and rose from the bench. "Thank you, sweetheart," he said. "I'm afraid I have to leave you for a few hours -- I have to check on the roses and make sure that nothing has been digging under the gate. Will you be okay if I leave you to explore your new home until dinner?"

  Bella was surprised. She hadn't expected to be left alone, and wasn't sure how to feel about the suggestion. The castle was so quiet that she felt nervous at the idea of exploring alone, but the beast made her feel uncomfortable, and not just because he looked so frightening. He wanted something from her, but she couldn't guess what. "It was easier when I thought he wanted to eat me," she thought anxiously. The flippant thought made her want to laugh, but instead she smiled and nodded. "I'll be fine," she assured him.

  "Wonderful!" He headed for the kitchen entrance, still carrying his armful of fruits -- "Is he taking them to eat later?" Bella wondered -- but paused and looked back at her. "And Bella, remember that anything you find in the castle to your liking -- combs, clothes, whatever -- it's all yours to use however you wish." He flashed her another smile and ducked back into the castle, leaving Bella in the bright orchard with the warm morning sun streaming down through the trees.

  Bella sat still, savoring the silence and collecting her thoughts. The cool stone bench seemed to steady her, and she could hear the chirping and squawking of birds as they hopped about in the branches above her. "It feels unreal," she mused. "Will I wake up and find this was all a nightmare?" Her stomach growled lightly, and she ate several more grapes and the remaining figs, grateful that she was alone and could spit the seeds in the dirt without an audience.

  There was a well in the garden, and Bella pulled up a small bucket of water to rinse her face and hands. The cool water cleared her head. She looked back at the kitchen entrance. "Do I just wander around?" she wondered. The thought occurred to her that she might be here for a long time -- "A lifetime?" -- and she pushed the thought aside as more than she could deal with at the moment. Squaring her shoulders, she marched inside the castle, picked a hallway at random, and set off walking down the cool corridors.

  Where the garden had been vibrant and alive, Bella was disappointed to find that the castle seemed dead and in disrepair. Several rooms were poorly furnished and in a haphazard design -- beds with no bedding, and vanities with no chairs -- almost as though a thief had come in the night and swept away half the furnishings. The rooms were dusty and unused, and several doors, including one that Bella thought might lead to one of the castle towers, were boarded up tight and wouldn't budge when she tried to open them.

  She did find some treasures in her explorations. A few drab dresses were tucked away at the bottom of a heavy chest in what seemed to be the servants' quarters for the castle. The dresses had been heavily used and mended, but they were clean and Bella was relieved to find something to wear besides her own increasingly dirty dress. "At least I won't have to go naked on laundry day," she thought with a giggle. In a room that contained a lavish stained-glass window, two velvet gowns of a deep purple and a rich red had been tossed under the bed. By lying on her stomach on the floor, Bella was able to drag them out for inspection. Both dresses were torn at the hem, and the velvet was exceedingly crumpled, but she imagined she could fix the damage if she could find a needle.

  In addition to the dresses, she found a small silver spoon lying under a wardrobe, an emerald hair ornament fash
ioned to look like a butterfly that she found hiding behind a shabby travel trunk, and several beeswax candles scattered about the castle. Bella carried the dresses back to the beast's bedroom and laid them out on the bed, put the hair ornament in her hair, and tucked the silver spoon carefully behind the vanity. The candles she lay on the floor near the cooled fireplace, with a sense of accomplishment.

  It was mid-afternoon when Bella came to a large set of heavy wooden double doors. She placed her palms on the doors and pushed, and the doors swung open with a light creaking into a dark, cool room. The air smelled close and musty, and as Bella stepped slowly inside the dark chamber, she could feel that the room was quite spacious. "What is this?" she wondered, moving quietly forward with her hands outstretched to keep from bumping into anything. "It's not a bedroom, it's too big." She was a little frightened in the dark, but as her eyes adjusted she could see a small sliver of light on the far wall. Carefully, she picked her way to the light and reached out to feel heavy curtains; these she pulled back and the afternoon light streamed into the room.

  It was a library, the largest Bella had ever seen. Far larger than her father's library at home, and filled with floor-to-ceiling wooden shelves that held hundreds of books. A low table squatted on one side of the room, and a gilt-backed couch sat opposite on the other side; Bella had walked between them to reach the curtain. She walked slowly around the edges of the large room, staring at the book titles, not daring to touch anything.

  On her second pass through the room, she stopped at a shelf and stared hard at the books in confusion. "Something is wrong here," she thought, but she couldn't quite work out what had made her stop. Then she realized: the rest of the shelves had a thick coating of dust covering the dark wood, but this shelf had streaks in the dust, as though the books had been taken out and read recently before being returned to their places.