Later, as good wine and a fine time loosened her tongue, so too her morals became extremely lax. Her hands wandered. Suggestions she whispered in my ear, unseemly at best, and disgusting at worst. Aside from her advances, I was also forced to listen as she waxed lyrical on her other revolting behaviour and opinions. She spoke of the servants she kept like slaves, and the joy she took in doing so. Of blood-sports and the killing of innocent animals as if it were the greatest of fun. She laughed and crowed over those she thought less attractive than she, less wealthy, less privileged. Then, after all this, she proclaimed her intention to one day be my bride.
It was insufferable, such I told my father as I attempted to make my escape from the ballroom, but he would not hear of it.
“You tell me that Miss. Trevelyan has spoken of accepting your hand in marriage so expediently, and you would refuse that honour?”
“Honour, sir?” I echoed in astonishment. “There is no honour in such a woman as she. There may be honesty, but in truth, I should sooner she have told me lies than the things I have heard this evening. She behaves not as a lady in close company, sir, and makes it quite clear she means to keep me as a pet rather than treat me as a husband. I truly believe I should rather throw myself to the wolves than entwine my life with her own!”
My tone had risen to a level that might be heard by others, and it was impossible not to notice it. Immediately, I lowered my voice, but barely spoke two more words before my father intervened.
“You will marry her, Beau, or so help me, I shall not be responsible for my actions,” he told me crossly. “Would you see this family ruined?”
“Indeed, sir, I should never wish for such a thing as your downfall,” I tried to explain, “but would it be so very dreadful if I remained as I am? If our fortune diminished in some small regard? I am sure I should rather not sleep in the street and starve, but I am sure it cannot be so very bad.”
I wonder now at my own naivete, when my father seemed to concede defeat. I ought to have known better than to truly believe he meant to be kind and understanding, informing me I may go off to bed and sleep if I wished. My time at the ball was at an end. For those few moments, I actually believed I had made him see sense. What I fool I was to consider it.
Before the clock struck twelve that night, the house was all in commotion. It was my valet that came to tell me the news, a young boy by the name of Strauss, who was son of my father’s own man-servant. We were as close to friends as I was permitted to have, and so he felt it his duty, I think, to inform me of what had passed in the ballroom below whilst I slept.
“Your father and Lord Trevelyan made the announcement of your betrothal, sir. They say the marriage will take place without delay.”
The shock running through me was enough to silence me for several minutes. I had no notion of how to act or what to say. I had been tricked, duped, and was to be horribly used for the purposes of furthering my father’s place in society and our general wealth. It was sickening. Heart-breaking. I could not bear it.
“Strauss, I fear I must ask you to act against your master’s will and suffer whatever wrath such behaviour may bring,” I told him sadly.
“You are my master, sir,” he said immediately and without fear. “Whatever I must do to help you, I shall.”
He was a good lad, and I shall be forever indebted to him for helping me to make my escape. With only a satchel of essential clothing and precious keep-sakes did I set forth on my beloved horse, Goliath, headed into the darkened woods where few would dare to follow. Since I knew that my life would be unbearable in such a marriage, I supposed I may condemn myself without fear to the shadows and dark spirits that awaited in the abandoned castle, spoken of only in myth and legend. I had no idea, as I rode on through the trees, just exactly what I was getting myself into.
Chapter 2
Though the time it took to reach the castle was considerable, the sun showed no sign of rising when I reached the great gates that led on to the building. Deep, deep in amongst the trees, no light could permeate. No sign of life was evident but for myself and my dear faithful mount, Goliath, who snorted and whinnied at the iron bars now blocking our way.
“How can anyone be afraid of a castle, when such a barrier stands between them and it?” I asked aloud, bringing Goliath alongside the fence and reaching out a hand.
No sooner had my glove made contact than the gate swung open as if by some other-worldly means, setting us on a long narrow path to the castle door. Goliath was hesitant at first, but at my insistence was soon walking steadily through the grounds of the fine estate.
It really was very fine, despite all the years that must have passed with no gardener or similar to tend to it. The plants grew almost as if wild, but somehow stayed within their borders, never encroaching on the pathway. So many roses of different varieties and colours, their thorns razor sharp but blooms so beautiful.
The castle that loomed large before us gave me a similar feeling to those roses, a thing of beauty, perhaps, but with a foreboding danger that prickled my skin and made the hair at the back of my neck stand on end.
“Steady, boy.”
Goliath needed some encouragement to make it all the way down the path. At the grand doors to the castle, I dismounted, patting the dear horse’s flank. I could understand why he was nervous. The place was not at all inviting, and yet, I had the strangest feeling I was welcome, that something or someone wanted me to go inside.
Pulling his head back, Goliath practically reared in an attempt to move away from the doors, encouraging me to walk around the corner. Distracted a moment, I eventually gave in to my horse’s demands and soon found I was headed for a stable block that I had not noticed before. Perhaps Goliath smelt the hay that waited for him, a comfortable bed and a nosebag full of oats, all laid out as if someone knew we were coming.
Allowing Goliath his comfort and feed, I removed his saddle and harness, promising to come back soon to properly groom him. In the meantime, I needed to know what I was dealing with. Up to that point, I had half-convinced myself that the castle was entirely abandoned. That I would perhaps be free to live in the over-sized home for as long as I might need, with no fear of any interruptions. Obviously, I was proven wrong by the prepared stall for my horse. This also meant there had to be more present within than simply ghosts or monsters.
Headed back to the front door of the castle, I raised my hand to knock. No sooner had my fist made contact than the door creaked open, just as the gates had done before. A shiver ran though me, caused by a rush of cool air, nothing more than a normal breeze. I hoped rather than believed that was all I was feeling.
Stepping into the castle’s main foyer, I was surprised to find it well lit by many a candelabra and sconce. Still, the light was patchy, eerie to say the least.
“Hello?” I called into the silence, unsure what to expect in response. “Hello there!” I tried again when no reply came. “I am seeking shelter. Sanctuary, of a kind.”
All I could hear was my own voice and an echo of the same, before endless stillness enveloped everything once again. Even the candles seemed to burn in complete silence, my own footsteps on the dusty floor so much louder in the utter lack of sound.
“Come closer, stranger.”
The voice came so suddenly from the nothingness, I almost leapt out of my skin. It was strange, somehow neither male nor female, not young nor old in any discernible way, as it continued to speak to me.
“I know you hear me, stranger. Come closer, I say!”
There was a demand in the tone, but no real malice that I could identify. Just as I was about to ask which way the seemingly disembodied voice would have me travel, the direction became very clear. The candles in the hallways to the left and right blew out one by one, until the only lit path was that which went up the large curved staircase right in front of me.
“Very well,” I said to myself, moving forward with a purpose.
Perhaps I was foolish to come to such a plac
e unarmed, but I was barely trained in any type of combat. My father saw no need for it. He planned to use me only as a pawn, to marry me off to the nearest wealthy woman and be done. Sword play and gun skills would be of no use to me, and if I desired to learn, I suppose he thought I should seek out guidance myself at a later date. Still, it might have served me better to have at least made it look as if I knew how to handle a weapon, however little use it would have been against any enemy that crossed my path.
Following the lights as they guided me, I climbed the stairs to the first floor and then on to the second. A corridor lay before me then, stretching out in both directions. Before I had a chance to ask the question, all the candles to my right blew out, and so I took a left turn. As I reached the first door, its very surface seemed to darken to the point where I could barely make it out as an entrance anymore. The same occurred with the second, but as I reached the third, it stayed just as it was. Recalling what had happened at the gate and the front door, I tentatively reached out my hand. The merest touch of my fingertips sent it flying open.
Steeling myself against whatever I must face beyond, I stepped boldly into the room, determined to show not an ounce of the fear that I felt. So far, this place was more inviting than my own home had ever seemed to me, and certainly a safer bet than marriage to Miss. Trevelyan, as far as I could tell.
It came as quite a shock to realise I was very much alone in the room. Turning a full circle, I saw nothing but lavish furnishings, showing no sign of wear nor the dust of time past. It was quite the curious thing, I don’t mind admitting.
Just as I was pondering how all this was possible, the voice spoke to me again.
“Look into the glass, stranger,” it urged me.
I turned to the large mirror in the gilded frame, hung above the fireplace. I stared into it, my own reflection looking back at me, just as I expected. The face of Beau Delacroix was not one I much liked to look upon for long, and soon turned to gaze elsewhere.
“The glass, stranger!” the voice immediately boomed. “Keep your eyes on the glass.”
“I’d rather not if it’s all the same to you.”
Where my boldness came from, I could not tell you. To defy whatever beast lie within the castle must have been insanity, and yet I was quite determined. I would not be told to look upon my own face any more. It was a ridiculous instruction and I refused to comply. If death should befall me in the very next, I accepted it. I had come here to escape a life I feared and dreaded far more than whatever fate I might meet within the castle walls.
“You do not like what you see?” asked the voice.
“I do not like to take orders,” I countered, though it was merely a half-truth, which is why I continued, “and no, I do not especially like what I see in the glass either.”
Silence met my confession, for so long that I almost felt compelled to speak again, to question if my host was still there. At some point, I assumed to meet the owner of the mysterious voice, be it a person, a creature, or even some spirit that might manifest at any moment.
“Why do you come here?”
When at last it spoke again, I was so startled that I physically flinched, before giving my explanation.
“I seek sanctuary. My life is not my own. Though I belong to a family of some fortune, it means little to me. I feel as though I have been kept in a cage, the only freedom to come when I am married off to some ghastly woman who cares nothing for me, and who I could neither love nor respect. To speak plainly, if I am to leave here, I refuse to return to the life I knew. I feel I am desperate enough for escape that I should end it all.”
I had not known quite how desperately I felt these things, until the dampness upon my own cheeks became apparent, and I realised my words were becoming nothing but noise in my throat. With nothing left to give but pleads of salvation, I fell to my knees on the hearth and openly begged to be allowed to stay.
“I mean no harm and wish to cause you no inconvenience, but I beg of you to let me remain here. I will live as a pauper should, a servant to yourself, if you wish it, but do not condemn me to the prison of my own life a moment longer.”
A long silence followed, and I allowed it to. If the owner of the voice must weigh up all that I had said for some time before accepting my proposal, so be it.
“You have said enough,” the voice declared at last. “You shall say no more.”
The light in the room seemed to fade and then grow stronger again, candles winking off and on at will. I was growing accustomed to that already, to the power the master or mistress of the house must truly have. It was not so frightening now, not when I had shared such a conversation with them, and been offered the sanctuary I so desperately craved.
“I thank you for your understanding.”
“Do not thank me,” the voice told me in reply. “You have condemned yourself to solitude here. I have done you no favour.”
At that, the room fell into darkness. Every corner was black but one. A candle burned on the small table at the head of a large bed. It was clearly to be mine and I was to make use of it, immediately, I presumed.
“My horse-”
“Has been taken care of.”
It seemed only right to offer thanks, but I already knew it was not required and entirely unwanted. At least I was permitted to be here, though the thought occurred as I climbed into the bed, still half-dressed, that there was every chance the voice was right. In sleep, I could do nothing to fight off any attack. The worst could happen to me in this very room, and yet I was not afraid. In the dark, cavernous room, with only one small candle burning still, I felt oddly warm and comforted, to the point where, at last, sleep claimed me for the night.
Chapter 3
I knew not the hour when I woke from fitful dreams of laughing shadows and monstrous beings that would torture and trap me. At first, I did not even recall where I was or why. After a few moments of my eyes searching the room, my mind attempting to catch up with itself, I remembered. The castle, the strange voice, the candles to light my path, and the mirror.
Staring into it then, I almost thought I saw a face, and it was nothing like my own. A shadow of something rather than someone, and yet in a second, it was gone. I quite decided I had imagined it all. The dreams and nightmares that had plagued me, they had clouded my mind, I was sure of it.
Getting out of bed, I dressed myself as I had been the night before and tried to decide what to do next. At home, I would be served breakfast, either in my bed chamber or in the dining room, dependent upon the circumstance. In the castle that was to be my sanctuary, I had no idea what to expect.
A sound caught my intention before I could ask any question. Though I was certain the door had been closed before, it now stood open, light pouring in from the hall beyond. As I had previously, I followed the candles and chandeliers that seemed designed to guide me. A long hallway took me to a large door that opened itself at my touch, something I was fast becoming accustomed to in this place. Inside, a large table was set with only one place, though there was food enough for twenty, I was certain.
“I suppose it was too much to expect any company,” I said to myself, moving to take my seat.
It was just a little startling to realise the chair had made way for me on my approach, though I made no comment. It was not as if I was unaware of the enchantment in every part of the house. Evidence was presenting itself to me at every turn, and though I was sure I ought to be afraid, I could not find it in me to care. The castle, and whatever possessed it, had offered me sanctuary from a life much worse than any I could make within this enchanted world. I would not complain.
After breakfasting on every good thing, the taste of which was nothing less than astounding, I excused myself to no-one I could see. My curiosity would not be sated, and I knew I must further investigate my surroundings, starting with the stable in which my good steed, Goliath, had been kept all night.
“You will let me visit with my horse, I suppose?”
I
t felt stranger still than posing questions to a mirror, to speak them into the void of an empty room, not knowing in which direction to face. I looked to the ceiling, to the table that had fed me, all around. No answer came.
“Well, perhaps I shall learn to speak only to myself, and descend into happy madness.”
It was strange to note that, though I still heard no word of reply, there was some sound. If I had not known better, I would have sworn it was laughter of a kind. Shaking it off as the first symptom of my becoming quite insane, I took myself back the way I had come in the night before, finding the front door without further assistance. This time, I did not even have to raise my hand before the door opened itself to my needs and allowed me out into the courtyard.
It was impossible to tell that day had dawned, for the castle was kept in darkness by the density of the surrounding trees. Truly, it might have been twilight. It might have been a great many days and nights since I arrived and I should never know it. Neither did I care in such a moment. Fear should have gripped me if I was there against my will, I suppose, but I had chosen my fate. I had nowhere else to go that I liked better, and so had decided to make this my home, of a kind.
Taking a breath of sweet forest air, I found a smile settling upon my face. I had my freedom here, despite the high gates and surrounding trees. I was free of my father’s will and a bride I could not stand the thought of. Presuming they never thought to look for me in such a place, I might pass quite pleasantly here for the rest of time, I supposed.
Fairytales Reimagined, Volume I Page 8