by Amy Sumida
'Your Highness, please have mercy on an old woman. Do not let them put me out into the storm!'
The prince looked her over and said to the attendants, 'Give her a pallet in the stables, she can bed down with her own kind.'”
I gaped at the page. “Oh, you bratty bastard!” I hissed.
Then I read on, hoping that the prince would get his comeuppance. “The old woman broke free of the men who were restraining her and, in a blinding flash of light, her figure transformed into that of a beautiful maiden. The entire court went silent, in awe of her beauty. The three princes came forward and stared at the woman in astonishment.
'I gave each of you a chance to be kind, and instead, you treated me like an animal,' the fair maiden said.
'We had no idea that you were so lovely,' the second prince said. 'If we had known, we would have offered you a room befitting your beauty.'
'Beauty!' The young woman hissed. 'That is all you can see, isn't it? I will teach the three of you a lesson in beauty.'”
I smirked. “Oh yeah, you let them have it, lady!”
I settled back against the wooden wall and read more eagerly, “The maiden's hands began to glow with magic, and the court drew back in fear when she lifted them above her head. The princes, confident in their own worth, did not cower. They faced her with curiosity only.
'Since you treated me like an animal, that is what you shall be. We shall see who stands by you when you are no longer beautiful. How many of your court will remain to fawn over you when your monstrosity is apparent on your very faces?'
The magic shimmered over the princes, and they immediately transformed into hideous monsters; part man and part beast. The court ran away, screaming.”
I chuckled, monsters indeed.
“The eldest prince cried out to the maiden, now revealed to be a witch, 'Please, we can change our ways. Have mercy.'
The witch lifted her chin and stared at the pathetic creatures.
'You who gave no mercy, now beg for it,' she said. 'All right;. I will grant you one chance to regain your human forms.' She plucked a rose out of an overflowing vase and cast it at the feet of the eldest prince. 'You have till the last petal falls from this flower to prove that you are worthy of ruling this kingdom.'
The princes looked at each other in horror. 'But a rose dies so quickly,' the second prince pointed out.
'Not this one,' the witch smiled. 'It will fade slowly, and you will not fade at all, but only I shall know how much time you have to prove your worth. Thus, you will live in fear, like an old woman in a storm.'
The youngest prince crawled forward on his massive paws, 'But how do we prove ourselves?'
The witch thought about it and finally said, 'With true beauty, of course. You must find a woman, a brave and truly beautiful woman, to love all of you. If you can win her love, and become humble enough to share that love, then I will return your kingdom and your pretty faces to you.'
The princes vowed that they would win the love of a brave and beautiful woman... and they would share her humbly.”
I grimaced and tossed the book down in the hay.
“What rubbish.”
Chapter Two
“You didn't like The Beastly Princes?” Theo chuckled.
“Have you read that garbage?” I asked him as I returned his book. “It's ridiculous.”
“It's supposed to be a true story,” Theo said, “about our very own kingdom.”
“We have a King and Queen,” I reminded him. “And they only have a daughter, no sons; beastly or otherwise.”
“We were not originally a part of the Kingdom of Hannaleigh,” Theo said. “In fact, we're not really a part of it now. Our monarchy disappeared long ago; the castle is said to be deep within the forest, hidden by magic and haunted.”
“What happened to our monarchs?”
“No one knows.” Theo waved the book at me. “Or do they?”
“You want me to believe that there are three beasts, who once were princes, living in an abandoned castle in the woods, waiting for a beautiful woman to find them and fall in love with them?” I scoffed.
“Pure drivel,” Fabien said as he sauntered into Theo's shop.
I rolled my eyes. “For the flour,” I said to Theo as I handed him a copper coin. “And thank you for the loan of the book.”
“You're welcome Sylvaine,” Theo spoke to me, but eyed Fabien.
Fabien. Ugh. Speaking of monsters, Fabien was a real one. He was also a braggart and a bully. In fact, Fabien would probably get along famously with those princes. When he wasn't pushing his weight around, Fabien could be found admiring himself in any reflective surface. And when he wasn't doing either of those things, he was annoying me.
“Where are you going, Sylvie?” Fabien followed me out of Theo's shop.
“Home,” I said succinctly. “And don't call me 'Sylvie'.”
“Aren't we close enough for me to call you 'Sylvie', Sylvie?” Fabien wedged his way in front of me, forcing me to slide between him and a wall.
“No, we're not,” I growled.
“Fabien!” Bianca, my older sister, shouted.
Fabien sighed deeply and ignored her.
“Fabien!” Bianca called again as she hastened after us.
“I'm busy, Bianca!” Fabien turned to snap at her.
I used his distraction to make my escape, ducking down a back alley and then racing out to another street. By the time I made it home, I was giggling like a girl. My giggling stopped when I saw Bertrand, the horse who pulled my father's cart.
“Bertrand?” I went over to the horse, who was grazing peacefully in the patch of grass before our home.
Bertrand lifted his head, looking at me with somber, dark eyes.
“Where's father, Bertrand?”
The horse looked guilty. And yes, I could communicate with our horse; with most animals, actually. It was a talent my entire family possessed. Our ancestors had been very in tune with nature. My name even meant “from the forest.” So, I knew immediately that Bertrand had left my father somewhere that he shouldn't have.
“You're taking me to him, Bertrand,” I said as I climbed onto his back.
The horse tensed and pranced anxiously.
“You left Father somewhere alone. Now, the least you can do is show me where,” I chided him.
Bertrand took off into the woods.
Over an hour later, I realized that we were on a road that I had never traveled before. It was overgrown, but not to the point of being inaccessible, just enough to make it clear that this was not a path often chosen. Then Bertrand stopped.
There was a break in the trees, and through it, I could see a magnificent castle.
“Oh dear god,” I whispered. “It's just as Theo said; a hidden castle. Is that where father is, Bertrand?”
The horse whinnied.
“Then let's go.”
Bertrand stamped and turned in a circle, refusing to go any further. Finally, I gave up, and left him there, making my way up a stone path toward the massive castle. As soon as I was out of the forest, the land opened up into sweeping lawns and manicured gardens. A whole team of gardeners would be needed to maintain these grounds, but there wasn't a soul in sight. I looked down at my arms and saw the hair on them standing on end. Something wasn't natural here.
Even though the sun shone down brightly, and the castle gleamed as if it were freshly polished, I felt a heavy pall in the air; a sadness hanging over it all. I shivered and rubbed my arms as I hurried up the stone steps of the castle to a curved set of wood doors. I knocked because that's the polite thing to do, but no one answered. Instead, the door swung open all on its own, and I stood within the arch of it, staring at a grand staircase. Doors to either side of the entry were open to reveal vast rooms, but there was no one in them.
“Hello?” I called out. “I'm sorry to intrude, but I'm looking for my father, and I think he may be here. Hello? Is anyone here?”
A clink sounded down a hallway to
the right of the stairs. I followed the sound and came to a kitchen. No one was there. Another clatter led me to an open door near the pantry. I peered in and saw a set of stairs leading down into the dark.
“Too dark for anyone to be down there,” I muttered to myself.
Torches burst into flame, illuminating a stone stairwell which curved downward out of sight.
“Well, that wasn't at all creepy,” I huffed.
I would have left at that point–I wasn't foolish enough to venture beneath an abandoned castle where torches flare to life all on their own. But my father was in this castle somewhere, I could feel it in my bones, and I wasn't about to abandon him. I headed down the stairs warily.
At the bottom of the stairs, I found a row of prison cells. Solid doors blocked my view of the cells, but they were each set with small windows near their tops, barred with iron.
“Father?” I called out.
“Sylvaine?” My father's shocked voice came from one of the cells. “Sylvaine is that you?”
“Father!” I snatched a ring of keys off the wall and ran toward the sound of his voice. “I'm here! Bertrand brought me.” I unlocked his door and rushed into my father's arms.
“Oh, Sylvaine,” my father sobbed. “You shouldn't have come. In fact,” he pushed me away, “you need to leave immediately.”
“The hell I will,” I growled.
“Brave,” a deep voice noted from the doorway.
“Or maybe just stupid,” another rumbly voice added.
“Leave her be!” My father cried and pushed me behind him. “She has done nothing to you. I'm the one who took your damn rose.”
“Rose?” I asked.
“Your father is a thief,” a third voice, slightly softer than the other two, said. “We caught him stealing one of our prized roses. Thieves must be punished. At least, that's what Lancelot says–” His voice was cut off by a muffled thump.
“Over a rose?” I huffed. “I'm the one who asked him for a rose; you should hold me accountable.”
“Sylvaine!” Father snapped. “I will handle this.”
“Father, you need to get home,” I said sternly. “Bianca and Anne will not be able to survive without you.”
“You can–”
“What?” I asked. “What could I do to support us?”
“More than I,” he huffed. “We lost another cargo. I know you know about the ships, Sylvie. We are ruined.”
“Our family does not give up,” I snapped. “We've been through harder times than this, and we will prevail. You're going to go home and figure this out.” I shoved him toward the door.
“Listen to her,” one of the voices said, “she thinks that she's in charge.”
“He's a merchant; he knows nothing but business,” I growled at the shadowy shapes in the doorway. “What do you want with him when you could have an able-bodied woman instead? So, unless you need someone to manage your records, I'm the better choice.”
“Come into the light,” the first voice demanded.
I eased forward and heard three sharp intakes of breath.
“Brave and beautiful,” one of them whispered.
“Fools,” another said, “she's not the one. True beauty, remember? She's obviously a harridan.”
“Hey,” I huffed, but they went on, ignoring me.
“What's the harm?” The third said. “Let her stay. Let him leave. It matters not.”
“I am not leaving!” My father declared.
“Yes, you are,” I pushed him out into the corridor.
“You heard her,” one of the low voices said. “It's time to go.”
I strode out past the glare of the torches just as a clawed hand reached for my father. I launched myself at the thing before me, the one about to attack my father, but was grabbed from behind. As I flailed against my captor, my father was dragged away by something that looked...
“Half man and half beast,” I whispered in wonder.
I swiveled my head around to peer at the man who held me and found something similar. Shaggy hair framed a fur-covered face. The fur was sleek and flowed over a muscular body. Large, liquid eyes stared at me, full of sorrow and pain. They were set above a wide, flat nose that would have looked right at home on a lion. This nose flowed down into an upper lip that was thick like an animal's muzzle, but then it transformed into human-shaped lips. The beast opened his odd mouth, showcasing sharp canines, and spoke.
“Be at ease; we will not hurt you.”
“I'm more concerned about my father,” I said calmly.
His eyes widened, and he carefully put me down on my feet.
“Your father will be escorted off the property,” he murmured. “My brother will not harm him either. We're not completely animals.”
“Animals behave better than humans anyway.” I crossed my arms and considered him. “It's true, isn't it? The story of the beastly princes. And you're one of them.”
“There's a story about us?” He crossed his own arms to mirror my stance, and I noticed that he was dressed in fine clothing.
“So, you need to make a woman fall in love with you, huh?” I asked.
“Dear God, you are a blunt one.”
“And you're a furry one.”
“Fair enough.” He smiled, then looked shocked. “You're amusing, and I'm not easily amused.”
“Well, it's probably this whole having to find a woman to want you thing,” I suggested. “What happens if you don't, by the way? I stopped reading before I found out. Honestly, I thought it was a load of rubbish.”
“If only it were. If we don't find love, we stay like this forever,” he waved a paw over his body.
“That's not so bad.”
“Not so bad?” He snarled. “I'm hideous.”
“You kind of look like a loup garou,” I pointed out. “With a little predator cat thrown in. Interesting.”
“A loup garou?”
“A werewolf.”
“You believe in werewolves?” He asked.
“And you don't?” I looked him over pointedly.
“Yes, well spotted,” he huffed.
“The man has been escorted to his horse,” one of the other two beasts said as they both returned. “She isn't fighting?”
“She's quite reasonable,” the first one said. “And she knows about the curse.”
“She knows about it?” The third beast asked, coming forward to face me. “You know?”
“Yeah, but I'm not your girl,” I said. “I'm not into the idea of having multiple lovers. I'm looking for the one, my true mate.”
The third beast choked and started to cough.
“Perhaps we could change your mind.” The second one smiled, and it appeared to be very wicked, though that could have just been his face.
Chapter Three
“I don't even know your names,” I said as the beasts escorted me upstairs.
It appeared that I wouldn't be staying in the dungeon. So, I suppose that meant that things were already looking up.
“I'm Blaise,” the third beast, the one with the most gentle voice, said. “This is my brother, Audric”–he pointed to the second beast, the one with the wicked smile–“and the eldest is Lancelot.”
Beast number one nodded to me.
“Lancelot?” I asked. “Like the knight?”
“Our mother loved the Arthurian legends,” Lancelot said gruffly.
“What happened to your parents?”
We had come out into the foyer and were making our way up the grand staircase. I was starting to wonder where they were taking me, but I was more curious about them; these beastly princes.
“They died,” Lancelot said succinctly.
“There was an accident,” Audric clarified. “A horrible accident.”
“We may have behaved badly afterward,” Blaise finished.
“Here's your room.” Lancelot threw open a door that was four feet taller than him, and he must have been over seven feet himself.
“My room?
” I asked as I peered past him. “That's a really nice room for a housekeeper.”
“We don't need a housekeeper,” Blaise said. “The castle takes care of itself. It's part of the enchantment.”
“The witch wanted us to live just as we had, but without human connection,” Audric explained. “She thought to teach us that wealth is meaningless without someone to share it with.”
“Well, at least you have each other,” I noted.
“Sure, I have a couple of growling, foul-tempered monsters to keep me company,” Blaise huffed. “I'm so grateful for that.”
“Hey, you're a foul-tempered monster yourself,” Audric growled.
“Which is precisely the problem,” Blaise shot back. “One foul beast is enough.”
“I think I could live very happily in a castle like this with my sisters,” I mused. “Even if we were all beasts. Which, believe me, we can be.”
“You say that now,” Lancelot snapped. “Just wait until you've been here a month.” He shoved me into the bedroom. “Dinner is at seven sharp. Make sure to wear something pretty.”
Then he slammed the door in my face.
“Wear something pretty?” I chuckled. “Where does he think that I'm going to find a pretty dress? Shall I just pull one out of my pocket?”
As soon as I asked the question, the doors of an armoire, just a few feet away, flew open, revealing a wardrobe fit for a princess... or a queen.
“Goodness gracious,” I whispered as I approached the armoire. “The castle really is enchanted. I wonder if these were their mother's clothes.” I fingered the luxurious material, finer than anything I'd ever seen, much less touched. “I hope it doesn't upset them to see me wearing one of her dresses.”
I gave up on making a choice and went in search of the bathroom instead. Wear something pretty, indeed. I was going to do more than dress nicely. I intended to make the brothers drool. I stopped suddenly, my hand on the handle of the bathroom door. When had I ever encouraged the interest of any man? That I would do so now, with men who had entrapped my father, who were, in fact, holding me prisoner, seemed strange, even for me. But there was something about the beastly princes that spoke to me. Something in their eyes. I recognized the loneliness and sadness they held. I'd felt much the same when my mother had died. It was then that I had retreated into my books, feeling safer loving fictional characters more than people. Stories couldn't hurt you. The characters within them couldn't die and leave you behind.