Beauty and the Beast: An Adult Fairytale Romance

by Vivienne Savage

  “Hora?”

  “The palace matron,” he answered over his shoulder. When her brows raised, he snorted. “Did you believe me to be the sole caretaker of this vast fortress?”

  “But where are the others? I’ve seen no one since my arrival.”

  He gave another dry chuckle as he stopped at a small door, one of many with a standard-sized frame too small to accommodate his enormous size. He settled back, resembling a dog in his posture, and gestured with one of his claws. “Your bedchamber.”

  As her beating heart slammed a harsh rhythm against her ribs, Anastasia stepped forward and into the rest of her life.

  No matter what, she couldn’t allow herself to forget she was a prisoner, even if Beast’s castle was better than the hell she’d left behind.

  Chapter

  AS WITH EVERYTHING else she’d seen so far, her room was beautiful. Three tall windows with stained glass arches provided a breathtaking view of the mountains. Even in the dead of night, they shone, lit silver by the full moon.

  Heavy blue drapes hung around a large four-poster bed. Ana sat on the edge of the mattress and thought she had never felt anything softer. She ran her fingers over the luxurious, thick blanket then stood again and moved to inspect the hearth, where a small, cheery fire burned. More fairies decorated the mantle, carved into the gleaming wood amid lovingly depicted flowers and vines.

  It’s as if I was expected. Why else heat the room? she wondered.

  “How do you like your bedchamber?”

  Anastasia jerked around toward the source of the voice. A silver-haired woman stood in the doorway, wearing a bright smile on her slim, oval-shaped face. She’d arrived in silence, taking the princess completely by surprise.

  “My apologies. I hadn’t meant to startle you,” she said. “When he told me you were becoming acquainted with your new room, I thought I would come to introduce myself. I am Hora, matron of the castle.”

  “Oh! He spoke of you. Well, only briefly before he resumed a gruff attitude again and left. I didn’t get to ask him a single thing about the rest of this place. Gone before I made it a few meters inside.”

  “Nothing unusual for him,” Hora confirmed with a fond smile on her face. “I understand you came of your own free will in the place of the king. That makes you a very, very brave young woman.”

  “I had my reasons. It was… generous of him to allow me to come in my father’s stead. The kingdom needs its king far more than it needs a princess.”

  And another war.

  Hora watched her with a steel-gray gaze, her neutral expression unreadable. “I see,” she said at last. “Well, Princess Anastasia, if you need anything, I am never far. It’s easy to become lost in this large palace.”

  As the older woman drifted to the doorway, impulse forced a question to fly from Ana’s lips. “Excuse me if I appear rude by asking, but where are the rest of the castle residents?”

  “You and I are the only human souls in this castle,” Hora said gently.

  Ana startled at that revelation and glanced to the open doorway. No wonder the huge castle had seemed vacant and empty. Void of life. “Where is everyone?”

  “The other servants are indisposed.”

  “So they weren’t eaten?”

  Hora shook her head, chuckling quietly. “No, dearest, he’s never eaten a human. But enough of them, tell me, have you found everything to your liking? You didn’t answer.”

  “It’s a very lovely room,” Ana replied. She moved to a wardrobe cabinet and opened it to reveal an array of dresses in different colors, styles, and fabrics. Silk, velvet, satin, and even the scandalous, thin cotton shifts that had come into fashion years ago in the southern provinces.

  While she had admired the look from afar, she’d never had the courage to don one. Riding pants were one thing, but wiggling into a summer dress from Tournesol was beyond Ana’s limits.

  “I find there are many things to like,” she continued while caressing the opulent fabric. Her fingers glided over the smooth material, and she imagined herself twirling across a ballroom floor with skirts swirling around her thighs. Her shoulders would be bare and her bosom heaving within the constraints of a corset, but she struggled to imagine the man guiding her in his arms. “But I wonder why he’s shown me such kindness after promising tortures unknown to my father.”

  “Perhaps Beast has respect for bravery,” the cheerful old woman countered.

  “Was my father not brave to face him in our courtyard? Did he tell you that?”

  “Was your father not the coward who sent assassins slithering into ours?”

  Blast. Hora had her there.

  “Just the same, I would show caution, dear one, and not look a gift horse in the mouth. I shall leave you to your exploration to resume my own household duties. Enjoy your room and all comforts it offers to you. Breakfast begins at eight each morning followed by lunch at noon. Tea is served at four and supper at eight. You may attend all or none of these meals at your own discretion, young princess.”

  “Whose clothes are these?”

  Silence met her query. When Ana turned, she found the room empty. Once again, she was left alone to her own devices.

  At first, she was content to explore the room, but she soon grew tired of her surroundings and emerged from the room to explore.

  The remaining second-floor bedrooms were numerous, each one fancier than the next, though none held a candle to the chamber she’d been given by Beast. They were either too dark, too light, or at the wrong angle to receive the sun through their windows. Some smelled old and musty, and others felt cold and unloved.

  She discovered a multi-story library nearby, spanning nearly thrice the breadth of her bedroom with an upper level accessible by ladder and a circular balcony. It could have easily held a grand ballroom, for it was so broad, its windows spacious, and the walls stretching toward a ceiling with a beautiful, golden-hued fresco.

  Ana had never seen so many books gathered in one place outside of the academy. Her father’s library would occupy a corner of this room, if that much. She climbed to the top and perused the highest shelves, finding a bounty in romantic classics, and then resumed her adventure.

  No matter where she walked, there was no sign of Beast or Hora. No servants, no maids, no guardsman.

  The castle appeared vacant of all life, a beautiful void shaped by the talented hands of skilled stonemasons and countless artists. She traveled halls filled with oil paintings depicting scenes of battle, noble life, and the pristine countryside of Cairn Ocland. She even found carved marble statues of great beauty in the light of windows or by balconies. The sculptor must have been fascinated by realism, having caught his subjects performing mundane duties such as polishing windows or sweeping floors.

  Floor by floor, room by room, she explored her new home and found it as breathtaking as the castle she’d taken for granted in Creag Morden.

  This new place was to be her home. And it was lonely.

  With Beast’s warning in mind, she remained clear of the castle’s uppermost floor and suppressed her curiosity. Was this to be her life, surrounded by cold stone, lifeless beauty, and no company? She missed the garden at home filled with chipper birds and fat, sassy squirrels. She missed the maids and their gossip. She missed Victoria. How her friend must be frantic with worry.

  Ana sighed.

  She retraced her steps to the lower levels of the castle and approached the doors in the grand hall. She’d hoped to find Beast in the courtyard and ask him to discuss her new role in the castle; instead, she encountered the same empty space. She frowned.

  “Nothing,” she muttered out loud. “Not a single soul.” Her brows creased as she circled an armored statue, standing tall and proud to the left of the door. She’d overlooked it when she first entered, but now, with a torch burning behind it, the statue was hard to miss. The firelight highlighted the intricate, lifelike details.

  The former owners of the castle must have truly loved art. />
  Suppressing disappointment, she lifted her chin and returned to her room. Wearier than she’d ever been in all of her life, she crawled beneath the sheets, curled into a ball, and hugged a pillow close to her chest. Everything in her world had changed. In as little as two days, she’d gone from a reluctant princess bride to a murderer and a runaway, and now a dragon’s prize.

  Despite the exhaustion of the previous night, Anastasia awakened bright and early to the chirping of birds flitting in and out of the open window with a fresh, citrus-scented breeze. With the orange grove nearby in full bloom, she wondered if Beast would mind her visiting it to collect her own fruit.

  She also wondered how she was to bathe. She ventured into the bathing room and found a high-backed, porcelain tub. It was beautiful, but it lacked the spigots attached to the tub she’d used in Darkmoor Castle, which had been attached to pipes constructed from dwarven craftsmanship.

  She tried to imagine lugging her own buckets of water into the bathing room, and with grim determination, decided she had no other alternative. Perhaps she’d been stripped of all conveniences tied to her former life as a princess, but she refused to let it break her.

  Tonight, she decided. Tonight she would find the kitchens and boil the water for her own bath. She would become strong.

  In the meantime, she tidied her appearance. In the event that she crossed someone’s path while searching the premises, she had to look her best, so she used the vanity table built from rich, golden brown oak awaiting her at the far wall with an assortment of brushes and grooming tools. She dragged one through her hair and bound it in a single plait before donning a plain, blue wool dress from the wardrobe in the dressing room.

  It fit her curves as if tailor-made to her shape. She twirled in the mirror and watched it flare around her ankles with glee. It beat wearing a corset, and Ana’s breasts were so small and modest she had no need of one anyway.

  Satisfied with her appearance, Anastasia followed her nose to the first level where she stumbled upon an extravagant dining hall with a roaring fire crackling in the hearth. Despite being in the height of summer, the mountain peaks were chillier than the fertile valley of her birth. A familiar aroma enticed her into a room and down the length of a massive table meant to entertain a huge number of guests, but set for only one.

  “Allow me,” a gruff voice said from another pair of entrance doors. There were two sets in all, each wide enough for Beast to step through. His massive draconic body approached the table, and with one claw, he drew her chair.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “I did, yes,” she replied, surprised he even thought to ask.

  “And the castle? Is it to your liking?”

  “I explored a little,” she admitted. “You have a lovely piano.”

  “Which? There are many,” he replied.

  “I found it in a room overlooking the garden. It was… cream, not white, but the sharps and flats were gold instead of black. It was lovely.”

  “It is yours.”

  “Mine?”

  “All things in this castle are now yours,” Beast said, his rumbling voice so serious, his expression so intense, she had to believe him.

  “All?” But the fourth floor of the east wing, she thought, betting his previous warning still held. She didn’t ask.

  “This is now your home, and as this is your home, we are all your servants.”

  “We?” Ana asked. Her brows knit, but the dragon’s expression never changed. “Hora told me she and I are the only humans in the castle.”

  “You are, but there are many more living souls here.”

  “I’ve seen no one. Nothing but the statues.”

  “You should eat before your meal goes cold.”

  Lifting a skeptical brow at Beast, Ana raised the domed cover on the small platter to reveal a plate of her favorite foods—griddle cakes topped with summer berries and honey, fat sausages speckled with sage, and fluffy eggs scrambled to perfection. A small pot sat beside an empty teacup.

  “I don’t understand. How did you know my preferences? Where is the staff? Who made this?”

  How had they known her dress size before she’d ever arrived at the castle? With each discovery she made, she only found more mysteries and questions awaiting answers.

  “Whose room am I in? Surely this dress belongs to someone.”

  “It belongs to you.” His gruff voice unnerved her.

  No matter how she asked or pleaded, Beast told her nothing. She settled for eating, savoring a hot meal while he brooded across the long table. Hora’s warning returned to her in a stroke of wisdom. Should she dare to question his kindness and risk unraveling it all? Was it so bad to be the pampered pet of a dragon instead of his abused servant?

  No.

  “Could you love a creature like me?” he asked suddenly.

  Anastasia froze, a forkful of eggs halfway to her mouth. “There are many types of love. Love between friends, love between a child and mother….” Of course he means love between friends. He’s a dragon. I’m a human. What was I thinking? she chastised herself, feeling ridiculous for almost jumping to conclusions.

  “But could you love me?” he asked again.

  “I honestly don’t know,” she replied. “You frighten me sometimes, and I barely have known you more than a handful of hours. We’re strangers to one another.” What an absurd, terrifying question.

  Beast nodded and rose from the table. “Enjoy your meal and the freedom of the castle grounds as you please.”

  He left the room, long tail the last to leave her sight as it dragged behind him and through the doors.

  Ana slumped in her seat, stomach quivering. What sort of question had that been?

  At least Beast had the goodwill to ask, however, unlike Edward who had used strength as his tool. His memory soured her mood, and with her appetite lost, she abandoned the dining room and set out to explore the castle grounds in daylight.

  A narrow stone path she hadn’t noticed the previous night wound around the side of the castle. It followed the barrier wall, which she kept her distance from, fearing Beast would swoop down upon her with accusations of attempted escape.

  Or perhaps he wouldn’t notice. Tempted to skirt closer to the wall, she studied it and her surroundings for signs of Beast lurking nearby. Above her, branches swayed with the mountain breeze, and a flower-scented wind kissed her cheeks. She searched the oversized castle windows for a hint of a draconic shadow and saw nothing.

  Lack of guidance or oversight provoked the adventurer in her. She moved to the wall and rose on tiptoe, leaning on both hands to look over the ledge of the stone barrier fencing her into the castle grounds.

  The view down the steep drop-off made her stomach twist and flip. Who in their right mind built a castle on the edge of a cliff? Dragons, obviously. Then again, the castle itself seemed ill-suited for his size despite its lofty, vaulted ceilings and immense rooms.

  “Have you lost your way?”

  Ana whirled around to face the dragon. In her haste, she stumbled, and her back slammed against unyielding stone. Pieces crumbled away from a hairline fissure and tumbled to the misty depths below.

  “I didn’t hear you.” For such a large beast, he moved silently as a cat.

  “You must take care,” Beast said, studying her. He leaned down and close enough for Ana to watch her own reflection in his enormous eyes. “There are many old places on these castle grounds where you could be injured.”

  “Oh. I see. Then I shall be on my way to return to the cas—”

  “I could show you them if you desire, so that you learn your way.”

  She would have been glad to return to the castle alone and tuck herself away in the corner of her room again if his expression didn’t strike her as earnest and hopeful.

  “Is there so much more to see than a decrepit stone wall?” she asked.

  “Much more,” he said. “Come. I will show you.” He gestured with a claw toward the narrow path she
’d taken then fell into a casual step alongside her.

  Beast’s close proximity warmed her like a magical furnace, and after a few yards, Ana found herself drifting closer to him and soaking it in. She’d have to adjust to the cool mountain air or search the depths of her new wardrobe for a heavy cloak.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “A little.”

  “You’ll find many things in the wardrobe upstairs suitable to your needs and desires. You need only look and claim whatever you fancy,” he reminded her.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” And perpetually wonder who had worn such delightful garments before they came into her possession. A surge of pity overtook her, and she worried for the displaced, mystery residents of the castle.

  Unless… could this be the famed castle of the Witch Queen?

  No. It couldn’t be. The castle grounds would be in shambles, razed and ruined from the war. Everything she’d seen was pristine so far.

  From the left, an immense fruit orchard arose from a stretch of land in the eastern yards of the castle grounds. White and pink apple blossoms fluttered in the cool breeze above bushes laden with white flowers. Her mouth watered at the sight of plump, ripe fruit dangling from some of the branches, and the scent of magic washed over her.

  He noticed her watchful eyes. “Does it interest you?”

  “It does,” she admitted. “Would it upset you if I were to visit? I’ve never seen an enchanted garden.”

  Beast shook his massive head. “No. You may come and go. Many of the trees grow more than apples and will produce cherries or peaches at times.”

  A truly experienced magician must have created such a marvel. Her eyes lit up as she turned to him. “Thank you.”

  The grounds unfolded before them, revealing more to the mountaintop than an abandoned castle. Multiple structures of stone and wood dotted the grounds, from stables to an armory.

  As they walked, she studied her unusual companion. He gleamed in the sunlight, each gilded scale sparkling as he moved. One of her hands hovered out to touch him, anxious to explore his glossy hide. Were his scales as smooth as they appeared? She caught herself at the last moment and laced her fingers together against her dress.