Human Again

by E. L. Tenenbaum

  As much as I enjoyed making Kiara’s sisters squirm, as much as I delighted in the frightened flickering of their eyes over my massive frame, I couldn’t keep them there forever, especially as I had little more to say to them. In a moment of mercy, I wished them a pleasant evening and expressed my sincerest wish that they enjoy themselves.

  As they swept past me, and Kiara, she paused long enough to quickly press her hand against mine and offer me a small smile of assurance. Of course, that was the exact moment her sisters turned toward her, so the too-brief gesture didn’t escape their notice. I followed Kiara with my eyes as she caught up to them, my focus tuned enough, my senses strong enough to overhear their reaction.

  “Is that how it is then?” Leanna sneered at her.

  “How what is?” Kiara asked innocently.

  Trina turned on her incredulous, the drama as overdone as her frilly green gown. “After what that beast did to Father, whose very heart near stops at the very mention of him, you’ve betrayed us and befriended him? You plan parties, you make dresses, all while we’ve suffered so?”

  “His Highness,” Kiara emphasized the title, “has been very kind to me. And he insisted I have a new dress.”

  “So he can hide the abuses,” Leanna hissed triumphantly to Trina.

  “There are no abuses!” Kiara cut in indignantly.

  Her tone stopped her two sisters, who peered at her curiously. Understanding dawned first on Leanna’s face.

  “You care for him!” she accused harshly. “You think we can’t see past all this grandeur, this veil, this shading of the truth of the man who’s imprisoned you. And now you have the audacity to care about that wretched monster!”

  Kiara’s face flushed, evidence she was trying to contain her temper. “The prince is a friend and that is all!” she pronounced.

  “Don’t you see how we worry about you?” Trina immediately started in a softer voice, but I stopped listening.

  Nothing had been said between Kiara and myself about the nature of our relationship, of the odd tangle of mistress-prisoner-friend that somehow encompassed what was between us. Still, I had seen her face in my magical mirror, I knew what she meant to me. I was a beast, but I was not a fool to overlook her. And yet, she had only called me friend. Quite insistently.

  Did that mean she would never feel more toward me than that?

  Would that be enough to break the curse?

  Did I even deserve more?

  I turned away from them, dejected, not fully understanding why. Kiara had already done so much for me, she had given me this last magical night, even while I was intent on sending her away. I couldn’t ask any more of her. And maybe her sisters’ animosity toward me really did stem from concern over her wellbeing. Maybe they weren’t ignoring her but making their displeasure of me known, their desire to protect their sister and not call a prisoner a lady of the castle their brave stand against whatever game I was playing at.

  Except it wasn’t a game, not anymore, not with Kiara, but I hardly expected to convince them of that. They had no reason to trust my word over their father’s, no reason to believe pretty lines from a man in a perfectly tailored suit when his actions belied every single one. Instead of surges of anger, I was beginning to feel sick, surely thanks to Yarrow’s dose of humanity. I had to focus on something else before I hurled all over the carpet.

  I shut out all concerns, sought out Sir Garamond, and focused on the message I wanted sent to my father.

  That throughout the evening, as far as anyone could see, the prince was a wonderful host. He was charming, welcoming, even endearing, and he took care to ensure that everyone felt comfortable. He never once chilled the room with a menacing smile, never once lost his even temperament no matter what was said to him. He only danced a few times, but never twice with the same partner, and he even spun a few of the local village women around the floor—particularly those with sons and husbands away at war—something to give them strength, something they would surely speak about, many times over, for years to come.

  I tried hard to stay away from Kiara, not allowing myself to dance with her even once to avoid reawakening all I’d silenced inside of me. Yarrow’s potion did much to keep the jealousy at bay as I watched other men clamor for her attention and the honor of twirling this shining star about the room.

  From afar, I admired how easily she mingled among the odd mix of people that were our guests that night. She seemed as equally comfortable speaking with nobles as she did with the simple village folk, and all seemed genuinely flattered by her attention. Sir Garamond was certainly impressed, though I still wouldn’t tell him much about her. Her incandescent smile never faded and she maintained a joyful demeanor that never seemed forced. In so many ways, she was the very life of the party.

  From what I’ve been told, already by the next morning the gossip vines were lush with descriptions of the celebration. There was talk of the music weaving waltzes with gentle keys, praise for the refreshments, and admiration of a giant stag’s head that “defied imagination.” There were even musings about the novel guest list that intermingled nobles and commoners, a break in tradition that seemed appropriate at a time when so many of Delphe had sent their men to war.

  I must have known all this, but I wasn’t aware of any of it, because most of the night was experienced from behind my borrowed cool and collectedness. Thank Heaven the hours flew by quickly and it wasn’t long before all had left or been put to bed. Soon the entire castle was silent and the only sound was the soft click of heels as I finished a final round of checking that all was settled. At last, my feet led me back to the ballroom, where the hundreds of low-burning candles cast the room in a surreal, golden glow.

  I was about to turn away when I noticed that I wasn’t alone. At the bottom of the steps, tucked in beside the back curve of the banister was Kiara, who was looking over the room as if she too was relieving the faery-tale-worthy evening just passed. I went to stand beside her, the movement of my approach drawing her head toward me with a small smile. At first neither of us said anything, but as my thoughts and emotions were slowly being allowed back inside, I had the sudden desire to make up for what I had missed that night.

  “Dance with me?” I asked, offering my hand.

  Kiara smiled. “There’s no music.”

  I considered her answer. “Isn’t there?”

  “You’re right,” she beamed, producing a sheet with a sudden flourish. “Happy birthday.”

  “Which is this?” I asked with a laugh, but as I quickly glanced over the notes, I realized it was no music I was familiar with.

  “I hope it’s all right, but when we sent the invitation to Princess Amellia, I slipped in a note asking if she’d commission one of the court musicians to draw up something new,” she explained. “Though I specified that she not reveal who it was really for so the surprise wouldn’t get out.”

  Overwhelmed, I focused on the music, sounding out the tune in a low hum. Kiara immediately jumped in, guiding me through the melody. I tried it again and again, a simple but nostalgic refrain just right for the two of us. I finally mustered enough nerve to catch her gaze and hold it, my hand raised in invitation. I kept on, asking her, urging her to join me.

  She considered me a moment, amusement playing with her enchanting features. Then she gave in, her hand rising to meet mine. The second our fingers touched, I spun her into me, then whisked her onto the dance floor, waltzing with abandon in a room entirely ours. That tune led into another, and perhaps at one point we even moved without music, but I don’t remember. There was no one and nothing in the entire world that could have made me believe then that Kiara and I were not the only two alive, that this floor, this castle, this kingdom hadn’t been made specifically for us.

  Our eyes held each other as we twirled across the dance floor, my golden Kiara, the radiant sun illuminating the light blue lakes of my eyes. In that moment, I could believe the whispers of Ms. Potsdam promising Alvie there would come a time when w
e would all be human once more.

  How could any darkness conquer me when I was holding the very source of light in my arms?

  How could any ice imprison me when I had captured the heating sun in my palms?

  How could any beast consume me when true beauty and goodness looked upon me with such fondness in her eyes?

  Though I was so much larger than Kiara, I never felt she was too small in my arms, never once worried that I would lose her about the floor, that my long legs would overstep her much smaller ones. Even after all these years, I struggle to find the words to explain what that night felt like, how right it was, how well we simply fit together. I couldn’t shake the thought then that she belonged with me, not as mistress, not as prisoner, but on equal footing beside me, the only one I would ever trust with my heart.

  At some point, our steps slowed, but even then, we hung onto each other, slowly swaying as if neither wished the moment to end. Perhaps some part of us sensed what the immediate future would bring. Perhaps we knew that this night was to be the only one of its kind for a long, long while.

  Some pieces from Kiara’s pile of hair had come loose, but I held myself back from gently tucking them away. The way she looked at me then said she would allow such an intimate gesture, welcome it even, but I wouldn’t—couldn’t—let myself take such liberties. Not without knowing if she felt about me the way I felt about her. I couldn’t bear the thought of opening myself up without knowing if it would be valued or reciprocated in turn. It was better to let my imagination fill in the details the way I wanted them to be and avoid the possibility of being hurt.

  “How did you explain your role in all this to the villagers?” I asked instead.

  Kiara shrugged slightly, indicating the answer was that basic. “I was sent ahead of winter to prepare the castle and plan the party for your possible furlough in the spring,” she replied. “You know you’ve only been here since your first meeting with the tailor?”

  “About a month then?” I calculated.

  “About,” Kiara confirmed.

  “And what about the beast that haunts these walls?” I couldn’t help but ask.

  Kiara blinked up at me with the most guileless and charming of expressions. “You’ve taken care of it, of course,” she replied. “The valiant prince chased away the creature haunting his mountain castle and the villages it must protect. Bards and minstrels may even be writing the verses now.”

  Instead of getting upset as I normally, rightfully, would have, I threw back my head and laughed, a deep belly laugh of a kind I hadn’t released in a long time, if ever at all. I couldn’t hold it in, I was too delighted at her deftness, too charmed by the simple genius of her actions.

  Without thinking to censor it first, I let slip, “Heavens, I’m eternally glad you’re here.”

  “As am I,” Kiara whispered with deep sincerity, but not fast enough, not low enough for me to miss.

  That was enough for me. Heaven alone knows how desperately I wanted her to confirm what had been rattling about my thoughts since the day I’d seen her standing in the entrance, bringing with her more light than the shining sun outside. Before I could reconsider the foolishness of my actions, before I could think of the potential danger or heartbreak or rejection or my former resolutions, I was down on one knee pulling Kiara toward me, urging her to agree when I asked, “Marry me? Please?”

  Kiara didn’t respond at first, and had it not been for the glimmer of tears in her eyes, I would have thought my offer wholly untoward and unwelcome. She tugged back at the hand still holding hers and raised it to her lips for a gentle kiss. Then she tugged further until I was forced back onto my feet.

  “Oh, Azahr,” she said kindly, “how can I marry my very best friend?”

  “Who could be better?” I countered, thinking too late that I didn’t really want to hear about any alternatives.

  She didn’t answer me directly, which was a good enough sign for me. I hadn’t thought that, considering her past, she might have given up on marriage. Or maybe she had a secret beau back home that I didn’t know about, though I don’t think she would’ve been foolish enough to share his name with me even if she had. Oh, what I would do to the man I thought I was competing with for Kiara’s affections.

  Instead, she answered me with a sad smile and then I didn’t hesitate to brush the stray hair away, though the sentiment behind the gesture was different now. I cupped her beautiful, perfect face in my giant hands and raised it gently so she had to look at me.

  “What is it, Kiara? What’s wrong?”

  A few tears slid down her cheeks and I hastened to wipe them away with my thumbs.

  “Let me help you,” I pleaded.

  Kiara nodded, but it was several seconds before she found her voice. “My sisters—” she began.

  “Your sisters—” I echoed darkly, my voice cold, a shadow passing across my face.

  “No, they haven’t done anything wrong,” Kiara said quickly, pulling away in alarm and grasping both my hands in hers.

  “Then why speak of them at all?”

  “Because I want to go home!” Kiara exclaimed, and if that hadn’t been enough to feel like a slap across the face, the way her usually soft voice ricocheted in the empty room mercilessly drove her point in to similar effect.

  It was my turn to take a step back, too stunned to even be upset. “You want—you’re not happy here?”

  Kiara rushed forward to clasp my hands again, warmly bringing them together. “I am happy here, Azahr, I am!” she insisted. “And I don’t want to leave, really I don’t, and you did so very well tonight, but seeing my sisters reminded me so much of home, and they were urging me to return with them. They care deeply about me, they just aren’t always right in how they show it. And my father, I left him alone, and he’s already so old…”

  She couldn’t finish her sentence as tears overcame her. Numb as I was by the unmistakable intensity of her desire, I tried to counsel reason. Kiara hadn’t said anything about not liking it here, or not liking me, she’d even just called me her best friend. She was sad and overwrought because she wanted to see her father again, that was it, it was nothing I had done. Nothing that I could do anything about, either. Except, follow through on the echo of the words following Daimyon’s final story.

  I pulled her close and she willingly melted against me, allowing the full rush of long pent up worry and anxiety to spill all over my new velvet jacket. I didn’t care, didn’t care that it may be ruined and never worn again, because all I could think of was Kiara’s tears, and that I had the power to either increase or erase them. I had thought her so strong, so brave to willingly take her father’s place and become a prisoner to a beast. Her smile had never faltered, her goodwill never wavered, and though she had overcome much worse, it gave me pause to think of the one thing that had brought her to tears.

  I had given her too much credit, and I hadn’t given her enough. In the way she held herself together day after day, even when being charmed, even when being frightened by the prince who fought daily for control of his very soul. For a moment, I wondered at her strong yearning for a party, at the way she’d coaxed herself to play the harp once more, if only to enliven a lonely castle that hadn’t heard such strains in almost two years. Maybe she needed this more than I suspected. Maybe it was about the delicacies, the finery, the new dress, the guests. Or maybe it was all of that and then some. Maybe this whole party was simply Kiara’s way of feeling human again, of reminding me of what being human was like. And now that she’d had a long-withheld taste of the outside world, she realized how much she missed it. Maybe she’d seen how well I did that night and decided I would be all right without her for a while, especially as her heart was still so clearly tied to home.

  I walked her over to a chair and settled her there, still hiccupping back the last of her tears. I kneeled and tilted her chin up with a finger so she’d look at me long enough to listen.

  “There is a way for you to see your father a
gain,” I told her. “Will you wait here a moment?”

  At her nod, I turned and bounded out of the room, making a mad dash for my chambers and the mirror tucked away therein. Secretly, in some deep, quiet part of my heart I hoped the mirror wouldn’t show her father. I rather hoped the silver would shudder and turn up an image of me.

  I returned to the ballroom to find Kiara just as I’d left her. The hour was growing late, or rather very early, but such considerations mattered very little at such a time. I handed her the mirror.

  “Think of what is most beloved to you,” I instructed, “and the mirror will show it.”

  Kiara nodded and closed her eyes, then opened them a second later and gasped at the image forming in the silver before her. Not quite believing it to be real, her finger reached out to lovingly touch the cheek of the man still most dear to her.

  “Papa,” she whispered. “Papa.”

  Hearing the tone of her words, my heart sank, down, down, down into the lonely, interminable abyss of darkness. Everything until now hadn’t been enough. Nothing would ever be. Why had I naively permitted myself to hope otherwise?

  However, if I would ever claim that I cared for anyone but myself, if I was ever going to salvage one tiny shard of humanity, fighting back against the wretched beast gnawing my soul in one final burst of selfless kindness, then there was only one thing for me to do.

  “Go to him,” I told her, surprising myself with how calm my voice sounded even as I felt the ice around my heart painfully crack as it expanded to cover the area that held Kiara. “I free you, return home to your father.”

  Her eyes widened in disbelief, then she flung her arms around me, catching me off guard so I had to quickly brace myself to keep from toppling over. Kiara clung to me and I didn’t resist long in holding her back, gulping one last ray of light, one last sliver of hope and possibility, even as it all slipped through my fingers. Just as Daimyon had warned. I couldn’t have the good of both worlds. And the faery’s curse had doomed me so I could no longer choose which one I preferred.