Across from my room was the other set of wooden double-doors almost identical to the ones I’d stepped out of, and I drifted towards them unthinkingly.
When I reached for the handle, I half-expected the doors to be locked. But they swung open with ease, and I found myself in what I thought was a completely empty room. As I crept inside though, I realized that it wasn’t empty. In the middle of the room was what looked like a wide, thin bed flush to the stone floor, and on the walls were all kinds of weaponry. Most of them were foreign to me, and the first one to catch my eye was a long, curved blade with a braided leather hilt. Others I remembered from books I’d read about warfare: battle axes, swords of all lengths, long wooden poles, thick chains with barbed metal balls on the end.
I turned as I made my way further inside, feeling very out of place in this room of massacre, until I saw the bows and arrows hung on the wall next to the doors. My gaze caught on something there: a crossbow. Those had been outlawed by the Regime, as were most of the weapons in this room, but I’d never wanted a weapon more than I did a crossbow. I wonder if he would notice it missing…
Had I not been so quiet from contemplating my standing as a would-be thief of the Beast’s weapons’ collection, I wouldn’t have heard Sophie calling my name from far off. I rushed out the door as quickly as I could—closing it softly behind me—and limped quickly towards the dining room.
“Is everything alright?” I breathed once I’d reached the long table, wondering why she’d called for me.
“Ah, there you are,” she said, and she looked relieved, though it was likely because she didn’t catch me trying to sneak into the Beast’s corridor this time. “Where were you?”
I swallowed. Even though I hadn’t been doing anything wrong, I still felt like I’d been caught. “Just looking around.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “You remember what I told you about the king’s part of the castle, yes?”
I nodded.
“As long as you don’t forget,” she said sternly, then she brightened. “Well, since you’re so curious, would you like to tour a bit more of the castle today?”
I hesitated only for a second. What I wanted to do was find the Beast’s ring and get the hell out of there, but as that wasn’t an option at the moment, I figured a tour of the castle couldn’t hurt.
I nodded, and she smiled brightly. “Wonderful! But first, we must eat.”
Slumping into my seat at the dining table, I thought about how long I’d been here, ignoring Sophie as she chatted on. I couldn’t believe it had already been two days since my coming here—it felt like weeks. Or, maybe it had been longer; I still wasn’t sure how long I’d been unconscious after the wolf attack.
But my thoughts were quickly interrupted when Sophie took a seat beside me in the Beast’s chair. I must’ve been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t heard her drag the chair over, though I couldn’t see how she’d done it on her own.
“My dear,” she began seriously, and I tensed up. When I imagined coming here, I hadn’t thought I’d be conversing with anyone but the Beast. And the more time I spent with Sophie, the more awkward I’d begun to feel.
“Bastian told me how he found you,” she continued. “Why were you all alone in the Black Forest? Didn’t your parents teach you never to enter it, especially at night and unaccompanied?”
I swallowed, now infinitely more uncomfortable than before, but thought it would be worse not to answer her.
“My mother—” I started, but my voice cracked and I had to clear my throat. “My mother is dead, actually. And my father hasn’t been around very much.”
Sophie put her hand up to her chest, her gray eyes widening in sympathy. “Oh, dear…”
I tried to smile, waving away her concerns. “It’s alright. When my mother passed, I knew I had to take care of myself—and my sisters. They needed me.” I looked down at my hands folded in my lap. “They still do.”
She was silent for a moment, before, “Is that why you’ve come here?” Sophie asked tentatively. “To save your sisters?”
I nodded, fighting back tears. The unfairness of it all hit me again like a cold gust of wind slamming into my chest, making it hard to breathe.
“Well,” Sophie said firmly. Then, she snapped her fingers.
I looked up as a loaded tray bustled out of the kitchen. Once it stopped beside us, I saw that it was eggs, bacon, and potatoes today, with caramelized onions. I ate a couple bites out of courtesy, but then stopped, setting the fork down with a frustrated clang. It hopped away from me and back onto the tray—the poor thing looked like it was quivering, but I ignored it, angry with myself more than anything else.
Sophie had dragged my emotions out of me, and I’d let her. I had to focus on the ring; the more I thought about my situation, the more I was distracted.
Then again, I was sort of out of ideas at the moment. It was difficult trying to understand the Beast himself, much less having any idea of where I could begin to look for the ring. He wouldn’t leave it out in the open, or even in a room I could have the chance of finding on my own. No, I’d just have to trust that it was either in the forbidden part of the castle, or with him. I could eliminate one of those tonight.
Ignoring the tittering utensils, I told Sophie, “I’m ready for the tour now.”
I must’ve been lost in my thoughts for a long while before speaking, as Sophie had already finished her plate of food. She smiled at me again as she stood, but I could tell by the sadness in her eyes that it was being forced. I wanted to tell her not to feel sorry for me as I got up from my chair, but I was tired of always having to say it.
Without a word, I followed her out of the dining room and into a nearby corridor.
“You’ll have to forgive the mess,” she told me as she glanced back, matching her pace to walk beside me. “There haven’t been many reasons to clean up this part of the castle since…well, since the curse.”
I nodded, feeling as if my head was being controlled like a marionette.
“I understand,” I said. “I can’t imagine you’ve had many visitors.”
Her shoulders slumped at that, but she remained silent, and I wondered what she wasn’t telling me.
Goosebumps popped up on my skin the longer we walked: this part of the castle felt colder than any other I’d been in so far, the natural light fading until all that was left were the low torches, flickering eerily.
I felt like a ghost, wandering the halls of a place long forgotten and left to decay, and I thought about all that I’d seen here. The dining hall had clearly held more people at one time, but was completely deserted. There were no servants bustling around, doing chores. No one giving orders. No children playing in the corridors. It was like a tomb.
I hadn’t even thought about the people who’d been forced out by the Beast’s vanity, until now. The stories never mentioned if those that had once worked at the castle had gotten jobs in the village, if they’d been able to feed their families. Anger grew inside me at his thoughtlessness, but there was also a feeling in the pit of my stomach that I couldn’t quite place.
I shivered as the temperature dropped again, folding my arms around myself. I was about to ask Sophie where we were going until, finally, we came to a door at the end of the hall.
The wood was ornately carved and the door quite large, though the gold trimming around it was beginning to crack in some places. Sophie looked over at me expectantly, so I tried the door and it gave in, creaking with the pressure as stale dust billowed around me.
But it wouldn’t open all the way, the door knocking into something heavy. I looked over at the old woman again, now a little frightened by what she was going to show me, but she simply stared at me. Swallowing, I slid in first, Sophie right behind, and we were just able to squeeze into the room.
Before I had a chance to get my bearings in the darkness, the torches inside burst to life on their own, and I gasped.
The frozen chamber was so filled with stuf
f that there was barely enough room to move. I noted that the rest of the high-backed chairs from the dining room had been pushed into a corner, with heaps of elegant clothes and pre-Regime toys piled on top of them. There were troves of gold and jewels and ornate tapestries, beautiful sculptures and paintings of the old king and queen, and even a bed. I wondered what all of this was doing down here. Why would the Beast want to hide these things away?
“Bastian stowed all this here even before the curse,” Sophie explained, and her voice cut through the silence so easily that I flinched. The thought that I’d had of this castle being a tomb was heightened here. I was reminded of the way the Egyptians would bury their dead pharaohs with all of their worldly possessions. My palms were sweaty despite the cold at the possibility of finding a dead body down here.
“It was difficult watching him destroy himself,” she continued, “but he wouldn’t hear a word of it from me. He was so obsessed with power that it overtook him, and he’s hated himself for it every day since becoming cursed.”
I finally looked over at Sophie, her gaze glassy but resolute, and I had a hard time grasping on to the sympathy she was looking for.
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked.
“Because you told me that you’re here to save your sisters, and, I’m sure, to also right some injustice,” she explained, “but they’re not the only ones in peril. They’re not the only ones being wrongly punished. Bastian—the Beast—is no longer a selfish, vain king. He’s just a man who—”
“Then why hasn’t he taken back his kingdom?” I interrupted her, tossing aside my fear of the forgotten room. “Why has he left us in the constricting hands of the Regime and its corrupt Emperor?”
Sophie pulled back, clearly shocked at my harsh words. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I couldn’t stop my anger from rising and spewing out.
“Briar has been struggling—dying—since the king became cursed,” I continued, hearing my voice echo severely along the corridor behind me. “We’ve had no one to lead us, no one with the power or authority to stand up to the Emperor. We were defenseless and the Regime took advantage. And where was Bastian? He was here, pouting over being turned into the monster that he’d already proved himself to be, hiding from the world—from his own people—because his vanity had such a powerful hold on him and he was too weak to stop it.” I shook my head and clenched my jaw, trying and failing to rein in my anger. “The Beast has lived in luxury here in this castle, without having the responsibilities of a king that we desperately need.” I took a breath and my chest heaved. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have very
much sympathy for him.”
And with that, I turned and limped back to my prison, leaving Sophie in the tomb of thrown-away treasures and lost souls.
Chapter 13
The Time Was Come
BASTIAN
T he wolf’s neck snapped easily in my paws, and I dropped its limp body to the ground, brushing my wild mane out of my eyes.
The silence of the black forest pressed in on me as I wiped blood on the bark of the tree beside me, and then jumped up into its branches. I heard the howl of a far-off wolf pierce the night, but I wasn’t going to stick around for it to hunt me down. Leaping from tree to tree, I found that I was quickening my pace towards the castle.
I climbed up to a higher branch and looked up at the crescent moon rising over the tops of the trees, the pale light reflecting off the patches of snow on the ground, making them sparkle like diamonds. Curling my claws into the bark, I could feel myself growing restless, something that rarely happened to me outside the castle.
But I knew why.
Even though I’d left to be away from the girl, I still couldn’t get her out of my head, and that was a foreign feeling to me. Only in my wildest dreams had I imagined actually getting to know her. But now, I could see her eating meals with me every night and reading by the fire in the library, her helping me trim the roses that my mother had planted all those years ago.
Which was why I’d had to leave.
I was too close to this—I wanted it too much. Something in me felt so sure that she’d be the one to break the curse. But I didn’t want to put that burden on her. I knew the townspeople told stories about me, and most of them were likely to be true, so she must know by now that the only way I can become human again is for a girl to fall in love with me by her own free will, and for me to love her in return. So far, I hadn’t helped that along by being so abrupt with her, leaving her alone with Sophie. Running away hadn’t been the best decision, but, despite the fact that my home was a castle, I often felt constricted within its walls. That day, after storming off, I’d needed to get out.
Now, I was perched in the branches of a tree miles away from the castle. This was one of the few times that I was grateful for the Black Forest; you could go fifty feet from the castle in some parts and not be able to see a single gray stone.
The frozen branches below my feet cracked in response to my movements. It had snowed recently, though not enough to make much of a cushion on the ground. Not that I needed it. But there was something about winter, and the snow in particular, that I loved. It was the worst time to grow anything, though I supposed that was what my magic was for. But it was so easy to make your tracks in the snow, to leave a mark on such a flawless world, only for it to be covered up again.
I thought about my parents, about how Sophie had told me that mother had hated the snow and the cold, but father had loved the sight of it. He’d once said to me that it reminded him of rebirth and change, but also fragility. Snow was pure and innocent, but it could be so easily marred.
Remembering this gave me hope that I’d be able to start over. That I was done leaving my dark mark on the world, and soon the snow would fall again and I’d be able to live my life the way I’d always wanted to. To leave a different mark on the world.
I dropped to the ground, grinning foolishly. I needed to get back to the castle.
I needed to see Belle.
Chapter 14
A Hasty Farewell
BELLE
T irelessly, I laid in my bed, feeling like I could sleep away another day and still be exhausted. But when I closed my eyes, I saw all the things that would happen if I didn’t get back to my sisters in time with the ring. And when those thoughts didn’t plague me, I imagined the forest wolves tearing me apart.
On top of that, I’d started to feel guilty for what I’d said to Sophie about the Beast. I could tell that she loved him like a son, and my words had hurt her. But they were words that I’d meant. I couldn’t ignore that the Beast was to blame for Briar falling helplessly under the power of the Regime, but would I have done any differently? After nearly being torn apart by a forest wolf, I’d hidden myself away for weeks. Even when my mother told me that I’d likely have the silver scars for the rest of my life and that I’d have to face the world again at some point, I didn’t want to leave my room.
We’re all a little vain sometimes, I thought to myself, knowing that the blame couldn’t be all his. But I couldn’t find it in me to forgive him for it just yet. Not when I hadn’t gotten to know him.
A knock sounded at the door and I glared at it, hoping that would make Sophie go away. When I didn’t hear another knock, though, I grew suspicious. Climbing out of bed carefully, I opened the door to find that the corridor was empty except for small tray waiting for me, a tea cup and tea pot set on top of the polished silver. The tray’s wheel tapped at my foot, and I moved aside so that it could come into the room. The dinnerware was getting more persistent—it was endearing.
Sitting back on my bed, I reached forward and picked up the tea pot by its ornate handle. The white porcelain was painted in blues and golds of soft filigree, with tiny red roses popping up between the baroque designs. It was beautiful. I couldn’t imagine the Beast owning something so delicate. Maybe it had been his mother’s. My mother had loved tea, and she’d always made her own concoctions that she’d then forced us to drin
k. But they’d never disappointed us.
Smiling at the memory, I poured the tea into the matching tea cup, hot water and bits of red roses filling it to the brim. I breathed in the steam, and it smelled so much better than the tea we had at home.
As I put the edge of the tea cup to my mouth, I wondered fleetingly if it was poisoned. I hadn’t been the nicest to Sophie since coming here, but I didn’t think she would be angry enough to try to kill me.
Shrugging, I took a sip—before immediately setting it down with a clatter, my head suddenly light and my stomach twisting oddly. Damn, she really did poison me.
But the stomach ache went away almost immediately, and something strange invaded my vision. I gripped the sheets under me to ground myself.
I wasn’t in my room anymore, that was for sure; I was in the greenhouse. But it looked different. The green glass was cleaner, and the plants weren’t moving. And there was a man there. He looked familiar to me, but I couldn’t place him. He was tending to the plants solemnly, snipping off the dead leaves and watering the roots that needed it. It reminded me so much of my mother that I felt like I couldn’t breathe watching him. Then, someone else entered through the greenhouse doors: a little boy. Right away, I knew it was Bastian. I’d seen paintings of the cruel king before, and this had to be him.
Little Bastian wrapped his tiny arms around the man’s waist, and the man managed a smile, turning away from the plants and removing his gardening gloves so that he could take the little boy into his arms. He giggled as the man held him up in the air.
“My little Bastian,” he said, but his voice didn’t hold the joy I’d been expecting.
He set Bastian down, and the boy looked up at who had to be the old king. His father.
“Papa, why do you come here all the time? There’s so much dirt.”
The king’s lip trembled, and he kneeled down in front of his son. “Because your mother is here, son. Not in the flesh, but in the roots and stems of her lovelies.”
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