by Lelia Eye
Chapter 5: The Rose
I was outside, staring at the rose fountain, when I heard him. He was muttering to himself, and I made the quick decision to hide behind the fountain. Silverthorn was my domain, not his, but I didn’t want him to see me here. It was stupid, but I wanted to watch him unobserved.
He looked haggard and worn, the way I used to feel after I had spent hours on a hunting expedition with nothing to show for it. His clothes were practically in tatters, nothing at all like the pomp he used to sport. He had even lost some weight, as if the worm that had chewed through his clothes had gotten into his belly, too. Something major had happened since the last time I had seen him, and part of me thought of Labelle and worried.
His right hand held the reins to a worn bridle that was attached to a horse I knew had seen better days.
Luna, I thought to myself, the breath catching in my throat. Why was the merchant using his daughter’s horse?
I still was not sure why I was hiding—he was the one trespassing, not me—but I felt like a kid trying not to get caught doing something wrong. I didn’t know what to think of his presence here, but I had to make a quick decision on how to act. I couldn’t let him wander around aimlessly. I had to give some form of direction.
As he stumbled up to the fountain and started to go around it, I found myself slowly crawling to keep exactly opposite him and out of sight. I jumped suddenly, nearly breaking my cover, as I sensed someone beside me, and it was all I could do to keep from yelling out.
“Scarlet, what are you doing?” I whispered furiously, trying to keep my voice low, though the merchant seemed so dazed that he probably would not have heard me unless I shouted.
She seemed amused, but at least she tried to stay hidden. “I’m wondering what you’re doing.”
“What?”
“What are you doing about Gaheris Beauregard?”
I felt a breeze brush my cheek, and I knew it was the Invis, wondering how they should treat the man.
“I will do the same for him that he did for me,” I said at last. “Invis, open the doors and feed him. Give him a lot of choices.” It looked as if it had been a long time since he had eaten a good meal, and I figured that was what a proper host would offer. What else did he need? Soap? Maybe I should have paid closer attention to my etiquette lessons.
The doors opened, and the merchant called out, “Is anyone, ah, well . . . here?”
Ground-tying was apparently enough to keep Luna from wandering, so it didn’t take long for the merchant to start walking through the front doors. I waited a few moments before I came out of hiding to ensure he would not see me following him.
“Are you going to take care of the horse?” asked a voice behind me.
Trying to keep back my annoyance, I turned and instructed the Invis, “Bring Luna to the stables.” I started to take a step but paused briefly. “You coming, Scarlet?”
“Yes.”
So we went to the stables to wait as the Invis brought Luna. At my direction, they put her in the finest stall, and then I instructed, “Feed her, and when the merchant is ready to leave, replace that nasty tack.” Her bridle and saddle looked like they had been dragged through mud, chewed on, and then spit out. A mount deserved better than that.
I looked at the horse. “It’s good to see you again, beast,” I said. Luna’s ears twitched. “I wish I could ask your master for news of Labelle, but I won’t. He’ll be happier if he never sees me.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Yes, Scarlet,” I told her with a sigh, trying to push past my annoyance.
As I watched the Invis get to work pulling off the haggard tack, I told them, “When he leaves, see that the saddlebags are full of . . . I don’t know, gold and jewels and dresses or whatever girls like. And some gold or silver plates. And goblets. And spoons. Great Gawain, please give them some cutlery, lest their tongues suffer the consequences.”
My red-furred companion snorted at that but didn’t say anything.
I honestly didn’t know whether the merchant had fallen on hard times or whether he and his horse had battled a nest of dragons, but it didn’t matter. Girls always liked getting nice things, and no one would say no to the cutlery. You could never have too much good cutlery.
After I ensured the horse was being properly tended to, I said, “I’m going back to the castle. Are you coming, Scarlet?”
“I suppose I will,” she said, but though she entered the castle behind me, she did not stay with me, and I didn’t pay attention to where she went. She always came and went as she pleased, and there was no point in trying to stop her.
Wanting to watch Beauregard eat, I went to the dining room and hid under a small table. He was so focused on his food that an entire pack of wolves could have entered without him noticing. He acted ravenous, and I was glad I had said to give him a selection. Still, I thought even the enchanted castle’s seemingly infinite stores would be depleted if just a few people with such an appetite were house-guests.
“Thank you for the meal,” called Beauregard. He was slowing at last, and he would likely be done any minute, though he seemed reluctant to put his fork down. Not that I could blame him. It was a good-looking fork.
“When he finishes, guide him to a room to sleep for the night,” I instructed the Invis. “And offer a bath if he wants one. With soap. Make sure it’s shaped like a swan or flower or something.” And then I got up and left before a full stomach restored the merchant’s eyesight.
He looked strange sitting at that long table by himself, like a kid eating once all the adults were done. But at least the table was getting some use. It had been a long time since I had sat at it. It was easier and less messy for me to take my meals on the floor.
The rest of the night was uneventful, and before going to sleep, I asked the Invis to let me know when Beauregard was starting to get ready in the morning.
* * *
The next day, when I heard the tinkle of wind chimes in my room, I knew it was time to go find my houseguest. I said good morning to my frog roommates—who did not even spare me a friendly croak—and then trotted out into the hall.
Waiting in the shadows, I watched Beauregard walk to the front doors of the castle. He was wearing a new blue outfit that the Invis had no doubt given him, though he was holding his old clothes. The Invis should have burned them—no one should wear clothes in that condition—but it was too late for that. I wasn’t going to run and snatch them away from him.
The Invis opened the doors to let Beauregard out, and he called out his gratitude for my hospitality.
I felt rather than saw a red form come up beside me. Had I been human, I would have frowned. As it was, I just said, “Scarlet,” and moved to stand in the doorway so I could continue to watch the merchant as he stepped down the stairs toward the fountain.
The Invis already had Luna waiting for him, clad in new tack—not as flashy as I would have chosen, but far better than before—and with various saddlebags tied to her. I saw the merchant turn his head toward the horse, and he paused in surprise at her glossier appearance. Then he started to move again, only to stop and stare up at the top of the fountain.
I stood and took a few steps, my heart missing a beat as I realized what he was looking at. Then, in a strangely detached way, I watched Beauregard climb the fountain and bring out a small knife. He cut my beautiful rose free. My heart nearly fell out of my chest.
“What will you do?” a soft voice asked from beside me.
Beauregard, wet but pleased, had made it back down to the ground with prize in hand.
In the blink of an eye, I leaped over the steps and pinned Beauregard to the ground. A growl vibrated in my throat. “Why did you take my most precious possession?” I roared. It was the rose that grounded me, the rose that reminded me of beauty, the rose that helped me retain my humanity. He had taken it away from me. And now it was going to die.
The merchant recognized me and began to plead. “Wait! Please do not k
ill me! I—I let you eat at m-my table, s-sleep under my roof.”
“Did I not do the same for you? I gave you food and rest and clothes. I did not take your most treasured possession away from you, though I could have done so easily.”
My thick-clawed paw was up against his throat, which meant it was difficult for him to talk, but I did not move it.
“I w-wanted it for Labelle,” he said. “Calamity visited after you left. I became a poor farmer. But then—not long ago—there was a . . . a ray of hope. I asked my daughters what gifts I could bring them when I returned from my journey. My eldest daughters asked for gifts I could not afford, but Labelle—she—she asked me for a rose picked especially for her. But I had seen no roses on my journey, and then—on my way home—I stumbled onto this castle. I thought to pick one from a bush, b-but then I saw this rose, and it reminded me of Labelle, and I knew I had to . . . to bring it back to her.”
I looked over at his hand, which was holding the rose so tightly that his skin was white, and I knew the thorns must be making him bleed. Well, I was about to draw blood of my own.
“Your reasons do not matter,” I told him, my voice frigid as the blizzard that had swallowed my mother all those years ago. “You may take the rose to Labelle. But in a week’s time, either you or your most precious daughter must come to the castle to live here as my companion. If that is done, no one shall be harmed. But if it is not, I shall come to your home and kill you.” I would not kill him, no how matter much I wanted to, and I no longer knew where he lived, but he didn’t know either of those things.
“P-please, don’t,” Beauregard begged, tears in his eyes. But evidently he saw no mercy in my lupine face, as he bowed his head and whispered, “Fine. I shall return in a week’s time.”
“You may take your horse and go,” I said, turning and walking back into the castle. I did not wait to see his reaction to the filled saddlebags. I doubted he was even in a state to notice them.
“Move, Scarlet,” I said tightly. She was standing in the middle of the entryway, and while I could have gone around her, I didn’t feel like giving in to even something so small as that.
She stepped aside, and I passed her, and then she said, “That was cruel.”
I knew she wasn’t talking about what I had just said to her. “You encouraged me,” I responded tightly. I was still enraged, but she was not the object this time, so I was trying to hold on to my temper.
“A wise man listens not to others’ words, but to his own heart.”
I narrowed my eyes and turned to stare at her. “I am not a man, but a beast.”
She inclined her head.
“Besides,” I said, “wasn’t this the sort of situation you wanted a few years ago?”
“You may receive Beauregard and not the girl,” she pointed out. “You don’t know whether it will work out the right way.”
“No. Beauregard will honor any bargain made with a magical creature—I found that out from my stay with his daughter—and he knows he can’t leave Labelle alone with her stepmother and stepsisters. His youngest daughter will pry the story out of him, and he will seem unwilling, to assuage his conscience. Then Labelle will volunteer to go. She knows she will be taken care of.”
“When did you become so calculating?” She sounded surprised.
“I have had years to do little but think and hunt. This is the greatest game of all. Besides, I am no longer a cub, Scarlet.”
“A boy, you mean.”
“Whatever,” I said, as if my slip did not matter. But it did.
I was worried that the beast was closer to taking over than he had been before. I had wanted to kill Beauregard, and I couldn’t forget it. I could almost smell his blood. But what was worse . . . I felt I could almost taste it.
Chapter 6: As Long as It Takes
As the one-week mark started to approach, I grew so nervous that I started to shed. If I had been forced to wait much longer, I would have probably gone bald. As it was, I kept finding clumps of fur in the pillows that made up my bed. And my stomach? Well, it felt as if it were full of lumpy cocoons that were transforming into butterflies attempting to flutter their way out of my belly. No sooner would I try to go to bed at night than I would find myself leaping up to turn in a few circles or to pace beside the pond in my room.
At last, however, Luna was in my view, and her passenger was obviously not Gaheris Beauregard. Instead, it was a slight figure in a riding habit and a hat which had obviously seen better days. I worried, briefly, that it might have been one of Beauregard’s stepdaughters, but as the horse came closer, I was able to more clearly identify its rider. Labelle.
As relief washed over me, I took the time to more closely examine her appearance. The riding habit seemed to fit her poorly, as if she had grown out of it but been unable to replace it, and the black feather in her hat needed to be thrown in a trash pile. Yet she sat tall and proud on her brown mount, as if daring anyone to comment on the discrepancies between her ill-fitting clothes and the glittering tack of her horse. She had certainly grown since I had last seen her, and any last traces of puppy-fat—if they had indeed ever been there—were gone from her cheeks. I wondered when she had made the transition from girl to woman and why my heart was trying its best to break out of my chest.
But though her face had aged a few years, there was no mistaking the tear-stains beneath those gray eyes. She had not wanted to leave her father behind, but she had not wanted him to leave either. I had known that was how it would be. Still, I felt strangely guilty, though I had not done anything wrong. The only one at fault here was Gaheris Beauregard.
As Labelle approached, she took off the hat, and I made an unfortunate discovery. Gone was the hair-bearer. Now, there was no need for someone to play such a role. Labelle’s hair had been cut so that it only fell midway down her back. I recalled what had been said about punishing Beauregard’s family by the very one who had punished me, and I felt a pang of sorrow at the thought that this might have been part of it.
But though her hair was no longer lengthy and her clothes were not fine, she was still deserving of her name. Looking closer, I saw a brief glimpse of a rose in her hair, which she had hidden beneath the cap, and I knew it was the rose her father had picked. Surprisingly, it appeared it was still in full bloom.
“I am different now,” she said, stopping Luna in front of me. “The daughter of a farmer has no place in keeping her hair so long that someone has to carry it. Do you still want me here, though I no longer drink from a fine cup?”
Even through her unhappiness, I could sense her ray of hope. But in my experience, hopes were almost always dashed. They were what you held to your chest when you didn’t want to accept reality.
“Yes,” I said. “I have been master of this castle for years, and it is in need of a mistress.” That was a dumb first thing to say after finally seeing her again, but I wasn’t thinking clearly for some reason. I made a gesture with my head and a slight bow of my forelegs. Do wolves look stupid bowing? I wondered belatedly. “Welcome to my enchanted castle.” That was a little better, even if the place was not really mine. “As mistress of Silverthorn, you may explore the orchards and gardens at your leisure. But you must never enter the forest at night. Not all wolves are like me.” I stared at her a moment, to drive home what I had said, before continuing: “And of course, you must never leave.”
I went down the steps of the castle and stood beside her horse. “I will take you to the stables. Follow me.”
Though Silverthorn had more than one stable to choose from, I led Labelle to the one that had housed Luna before. I stood in front of the exact stall the horse had used previously and told Labelle: “You may keep your horse here. There are invisible servants at our disposal on the castle grounds, and they will take good care of your toy.”
Labelle’s face clouded over, but she said nothing.
I had wanted a bit more of a reaction, but she was obviously giving me the silent treatment. No one had d
ared do that to me before. It was irritating.
“The Invis—that’s what I call the servants—do as I ask for the most part, but they can usually make their preferences known. Just, uh, don’t make them angry.” I coughed, but it was a somewhat threatening sound in my big body, and Labelle jumped. “Uh, I know you probably want to rest until dinner, so I will show you to a room. You can pick out what room you’d like to keep later.”
I felt odd . . . awkward, even. I was not accustomed to real guests here, much less taking on the role of host. But the invisible servants could not do this. Not speaking would have put a real damper on the welcoming committee. Such as it was.
I had decided to put Labelle in the room beside mine so I could keep an eye on her the first night. In her room, water flowed down the wall over varicolored shapes made of stone and marble, candles were spread everywhere to give it a soft glow, and several wind chimes made up of flat red circles were strung down from the ceiling.
Despite the prettiness of the room, when I stood in front of it and said, “You may sleep here tonight—I’ll come get you for dinner, and my room is next door if you need anything during the evening,” she didn’t stand gaping at her new quarters. Instead, she went inside and slammed the door.
I waited there for a few minutes, furious after getting over my initial surprise, only to tilt my head in confusion when I heard a sound coming from the room. After a moment, I realized what it was. Labelle was crying.
I stalked off, not paying attention to where I was going.
“What did you expect?” A mass of red fur had appeared beside me. “You should’ve stayed at Beauregard’s manor. It would have made things easier.”
“Easier, Scarlet? What good is an enchanted castle if it won’t impress the girl?”
“It isn’t here to impress her,” she told me. She sounded frustrated. It was an emotion she seemed to express a lot.
“Then why is it here? And why does no one ever come? Why are you keeping things from me?”