by E. J. Powell
“Why would she curse you? What had you possibly done to deserve it?” I question.
Augustine looks at me, and my pulse races. “I do not know. I have been mulling over this for years. I not only cursed myself, but I cursed the people that cared about me as well.”
“Marymagglyn, London . . . all of them?”
He nods, “Correct.” He sighs and gets up. “I want you to have this looking glass.” He says, reaching out to tap the curved edge with his claw. “It will show you anything you desire, anything at all.”
I look down at the looking glass mirror and then clutch it to my chest. “Why bring me here, for only this gift?”
“Sometimes,” Augustine says, and then sighed, before continuing, “Sometimes, it is best not to bring up the past.” Then he beckons that we take our leave.
He helps me mount the horse, before climbing atop his stallion, as we leave the field house, I whisper to the looking glass when I am sure he is not looking. “Show me my family.” When nothing but ash is shown in the looking glass, I stifled a sob and bring it closer to my chest, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out.
11
Back at the estate, Prince Augustine helps me to my own quarters, letting me lean on him for support as we go up the stairs, taking them painstakingly one step at a time until we reach my quarters at the end of the hall. I am out of breath, nearly panting at how much pain I am experiencing.
“Bella . . .,” Augustine starts to say, then stops when I go to step forward and push open the chamber door. I glance back over my shoulder to peer at him curiously. “Bella, I . . .” Blue eyes avert to the floor, his tail scuffles against the stone like a broom sweeping up dust.
“Yes, Prince Augustine?” I ask.
“Will you dine with me this evening?” he blurts out, his ears going back to his skull. He does not meet my gaze.
I blinked in surprise, “You wish for me to dine with you?”
“Yes, of course!” he says rather quickly, blue eyes focusing on my face. “It would be a grand honor. There will be a seven course meal, music, dancing . . .”
“Dancing?” I say, my face pales just at the thought of hurting my already protesting ankle. “But my ankle . . .”
“Do not look so troubled, my dear. I plan to care for you this entire evening.” Augustine reaches out, hesitating before cupping my hands into just one massive paw. I stare at our hands, unafraid of the beastly prince standing before me. If anything, I wish to step closer and seek his warmth. “Please say you will join me?”
“Well . . . I . . .” My gaze travels to his, and my cheeks fill with warmth. All I can do is nod my head. Augustine’s snout crinkles into a smile, revealing his sharp teeth that could tear into my flesh if he so desired. I try not to shiver as he backs away, giving me an elegant bow, before heading to his own chamber.
Unable to process what I just got myself into, I turn and limp into my quarters. Marymagglyn is already in my room, her claws sink into the red carpet as I lower myself to the bed. “What are you doing, Marymagglyn?”
“Hm? Oh, Bella! Looking for a gown for you to wear.” She clicks her tongue in disapproval when she glances at the dark-blue riding dress she had allowed me to wear. “You must wear something more emaculate than that!”
“Whatever for?” I furrow my eyebrows, glancing down. The dark-blue dress was sophisticated and something I could easily wear; to wear a gown that probably cost more than the entire village square at the marketplace would surely have left me baffled.
Marymagglyn’s face crinkles as her stony expression gives another sour disdainful look at the dress. “The master just invited you to an extravagant dinner. You must dress the part!”
I stifle the urge to roll my eyes heavenward. “For goodness’ sake, Marymagglyn! I have never been dining with a man before.” My cheeks warm at the thought of being alone in a grand ballroom with him. A meal, dancing, music, it was nearly enough to make me swoon.
“Never dined?” she asks in surprise. I nodded my head, and her eyes blink a few times, before her wings flicker behind her. I lean back against the pillows, propping my injured foot up onto the coverlet to stretch out. “How odd to think of such a thing as never having dined before.” she scoffs, shaking her head with a frown on her face. “Not to worry, dear! I know just the dress.” Marymagglyn scampers out of the room before I can tell her that I do not wish to wear another dress.
She returns moments later with the most beautiful gown I have ever feasted my eyes upon. She holds the gown bridal style, hoisting it up near the bed to show me the fabric of the material. “Oh, it’s lovely!” I say, breathless at the sight. For a common girl such as I, to wear such a beautiful dress was pure torture.
“Do you like it truly?” Marymagglyn smiles, her stone face wrinkling. “I made it myself a few years back for the master’s fiancée. Sadly, she never got the chance to wear it.”
I blinked in surprise, “The Prince had a fiancée? Whatever happened to her?” I could not believe what I was hearing, Prince Augustine had been betrothed to someone before? How odd that he did not mention that to me.
“Yes, it was quite a while ago.” Marymagglyn shakes her head, before giving another smile, and completely ignores my question about what had transpired to the poor woman that had captured the beastly prince’s heart. “Now then, let us get you into this gown at once!”
I stand in front of a tall long-length looking glass, staring at my reflection in awe. Shifting from one foot to the other to ease my tender ankle, I cannot help but reach out to touch the looking glass to peer more closely at who has become mistakenly myself. “Is this truly me?” I asked, baffled that a beautiful gown could transform my looks almost naturally as if I had been born and made to wear this dress.
Marymagglyn finishes lacing up the back of the gown and peers over my shoulder, giving my reflection a smile. “Truly a vision, milady,” she whispers, standing back to admire my backside. I shuffle sideways to get a better look, then glanced down at my stockinged feet.
“I cannot wear shoes, my ankle is too swollen. I had trouble getting the riding boots off my calf,” I whisper, feeling a tad bit sad.
“Not to worry, you will not be needing shoes. My lord plans to escort you around all evening,” Marymagglyn says with a nod of her head.
I glance back at the looking glass, once again in awe of myself. Running my fingers against the silk material, it feels soft and cool to the touch. The dress I am wearing is tightly cinched around the waist, but flares out in an oval shape where the hem of the egg-blue fabric touches the floor. The neckline dips low enough to reveal a mound of flesh but giving away nothing but a modest appearance. Small little stitching designs of flowers trace along the outer skirt, looking like dancing flowers swaying to the music. “It is simply breathtaking,” I whisper.
“You are truly a beautiful moon flower,” I hear a deep voice say and turn my gaze to the looking glass reflecting the chamber door where the beastly prince awaits with a sparkle in his blue eyes.
12
The female gargoyle curtseys before the Prince and skirts around him to shut the door to my chambers as the beastly prince steps further into the room. I turn completely around so that I am staring at the Prince. I go to curtsey myself, but my ankle throbs in protest. My eyes roam down his beastly form. He wears a crisp white silk shirt beneath a bright-blue tunic. Gold buttons trail along the edge of the long coat that he has buttoned up to the best of his abilities with large paws. He is not wearing shoes for his legs are too big, and his tail swishes back and forth behind him. Prince Augustine’s fur has been cleaned and cut, he looks pristine. Although he does not wear any jewelry as is the custom to show his sign of wealthy establishment in the social class, I find that I do not care so easily about that.
“A moon flower, Your Grace?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at him, when my eyes settled upon his face.
“Yes, blooming only in the rare moonlight, a flower indeed. A rare sight to
behold.” Prince Augustine mumbles, his voice coming out in a purr. I take my lower lip between my teeth and gnaw on it gently, averting my gaze as my face grows hot. “I have something for you,” he says, holding up his left paw in the dim lighting. A silver chain dangles from his claws, a beautiful gold pendant charm at the bottom of the necklace.
I blink in surprise. “It is beautiful.” I exclaim but then merely shake my head. First the dress and now a necklace? He does not seem evil at all; not at all what the witch described him to be! “But I cannot accept such a treasure.”
Prince Augustine rolls his eyes, and I try not to smile. “It is a gift. Will you accept it?” He steps forward, his blue eyes studying me as he holds out the necklace. I hesitate before reaching out to take the dainty chain. “I would put it on you myself, but I am afraid . . .,” He stops speaking, and his gaze is drawn to his claws.
“Do not trouble yourself,” I say, before placing the chain around my neck and fastening it properly. The pendant feels cool against my breasts, and it feels as if it has always belonged next to my heart.
The prince offers me a smile, his snout crinkling. “Shall we go?” he asks, offering me the crook of his elbow. I nodded with a smile of my own, and rest my hand against his forearm, and he leads me steadily out of the chamber and out into the hallway.
“How will I get down the stairs–?” I go to finish speaking, but he drops his elbow, turns and scoops me up bridal style. I let out a small gasp, throwing my arms around his neck as the beastly prince balances down the staircase, while holding onto me.
“Did I not say that I would help you all evening?” Prince Augustine questions, his blue eyes sparkling as he glances down at my shocked facial expression.
“You did, yes. But I did not think you would carry me.” Him carrying me reminded me of a few weeks prior when he rescued me from the wolves outside his castle gates.
Prince Augustine’s chest rumbles against my right side that is pressed up against his body, as he does not put me down at the bottom of the stairs, but carries me into the dining hall and helps me take a seat across the long oak table from where he would sit. Once I am properly comfortable in my chair, he pushes me against the edge of the table, and takes a few long strides down to the table, and takes his seat.
The servants begin to serve out the seven course meal and honestly, I wondered how many stomachs would have been filled in my village if all had survived the fire. gargoyle places a cooked pig with an apple in its mouth, resting on a silver platter, at the center of the table. A roasted pheasant rests near where the Prince sits. A few dishes of apples, peaches, and acorns, as well as berries in small bowls are scattered around the table. Wine is poured into two silver goblets and passed to myself and the Prince.
“I am grateful that you chose to dine with me this eve, Lady Bella,” Prince Augustine’s voice rumbles.
My cheeks flushed crimson. “I thank you for asking, milord. It is a high honor to be seated here.”
Then we begin to eat, as we do, musicians silently flow into the dining hall and over by the hearth of a grand fireplace, the gargoyles play softly on their violins and flutes. Even with claws, their music is truly enchanting. Not even halfway through the meal, I begin to sway in my seat to the music, the wine taking effect to making my head spin.
Prince Augustine getsup from his seat and is at my side before I can blink. He holds out a paw, palm facing up. “May I have this dance?” His blue eyes sparkle when I stare at his face. I accept his invitation, and he pulls me gently to my feet, before scooping me up and carrying me to the center of the dining hall.
Candles lit along the walls, cast a mysterious glow around the ballroom. The blue of my skirt with the flower designs along the hem sparkle as he begins to spin us slowly around. My hand find their way to the nape of his neck, his fur soft to the touch. He lets out a rumble of pleasure when I run my fingers through his coarse brown hair. He stops for a moment as the room stops spinning. “Bella, if you continue to torment me so, I will have no choice but to claim you as my own.”
My heart pulsates in time with the music, and I stop instantly, even as he begins to spin us again. He jests, he would never do such a thing. Yet, I have to wonder if he truly jested about claiming me as his own.
Four tall arched windows on each side of the huge ballroom have curtains that are pulled back so that we dance bathed in the moonlight. A golden chandelier hovers above our heads with soft candles lit. “A moonlight flower, indeed,” his voice whispers and sends goosebumps in a wake across my skin.
My eyes turn to his, and the room has stopped spinning. He stands in the center still holding me bridal style. His face has a look of awe, and I cannot help but to wonder why his previous lover abandoned him in such a way. The musicians warm up for the next song and then he begins to gently sway in time to the soothing lullaby that I grew up listening to my mother sing every night before my siblings and I went to sleep.
When the lullaby comes to a slow halt, Prince Augustine strides towards the arched windows and two double door windows open up to a decent-size balcony. Even though it is cold and snow covered, the estate grounds look beautiful bathed in the moonlight. He sets me down on a stone bench that has been cleared of snow. I take my arms from around his neck and place them on my lap.
He does not sit down next to me, but leans against the stone railing, overlooking what might have been a magnificent place to live. “Bella, are you happy here . . .?” he hesitates before adding, “With me?”
13
At first, I do not answer. I have not been at the estate for very long, who is to say I am even happy? Yet, I find myself wanting for nothing. I have no life back home in the village, for there is no one there. And even if the witch promised the lives of my family back, who is to say that is not going against the Lord’s desire? So many thoughts circle around inside my mind, that I do not speak up for a few minutes.
When my eyes find his tall, dark beastly form, his blue eyes are transfixed on my face. For he studies me as I contemplate my answer. I have only been here for a fortnight, yet I feel at peace in a way that not even the village had made me feel before it had all been burned down. “You are unhappy,” his deep voice rumbles.
I blink and shake my head, “I am saddened sometimes,” I admit, averting my gaze.
“What troubles your heart, Bella? I will give you anything you desire,” Prince Augustine says, moving to drop to his knees in front of me. I look at him in shock, as he gently takes my hands in his paws, warmth seeping into my skin.
He cannot give me what I desire, only the witch can. The unbidden thought comes to my mind, and I have a hard time focusing on the beastly prince kneeling before me. “My family . . .” My lips stop moving, and I realize that the spell the witch cast on me before I left is still in effect. I cannot reveal my true purpose of my being here.
“You miss your family?” Augustine asks, tilting his head. His horns gleam under the pale moonlight. I hesitate, before giving a tiny nod. “The looking glass I gave you . . . did you use it?” I nod again. “Is your family well?” he questions.
I think back to looking at the tiny looking glass mirror he had bestowed upon me yesterday in the afternoon during our visit to his home away from home. Smoke. Fire. Ashes. Flames. Gone. I shake my head, my heart aching with the thought that they’ll never be alive again.
“Perhaps you should go to them, be sure all is well,” he says. Standing up, he turns towards the balcony windows.
“Augustine,” I manage to blurt out, “how were you cursed?”
His back stiffens, his ears fall flat against his skull, and his tail flickers nervously. He does not turn around even as he speaks. “That is not something I thought you would like to hear. I told you about the townspeople revolting and Sarabi coming to curse me, I did not think you would need more information on the matter,” he says bitterly.
“Please,” I plead with his back still towards me. “I have to know why.” And I spoke the truth, I
had to know why a Prince had been cursed, was it because Sarabi had been jealous of his wealth and social status? Was it because he denied his love for her? What was her reasoning behind cursing him?
Prince Augustine sighs softly, his shoulders slumping forward. Then his head tilts back to stare up at a stone fixture that I had not realized had been hanging off to the side near the edge of the balcony windows. “Do you see this stone angel?” he asks, pointing at the only stone figure I had laid eyes on that was not a gargoyle.
“Yes,” I mumble softly.
“I was like this angel that weeps. I was young and naive, in love with a woman that I barely knew. Back then, I thought beauty was the most important aspect of a woman.” His head drops from craning up to stare at the stone angel. “I was a prince who wanted a woman with beauty and elegance to rule by my side one day. I threw lavish parties, and took all the pretty women to bed.” I frown, not liking where this story was heading. “Then during a grand celebration, I found a woman. Enchanted by her beauty, I was captivated.”
“Love at first sight, like Romeo and Juliet?” I ask.
“Yes, something along those lines. Her dark-violet eyes beckoned me to her side immediately. The desire to have her in my bed was overwhelmingly painful. After courting her for three days, I was ready to make her my wife and queen, and then I angered her one night. Sarabi did not enjoy the fact that I was a man with needs.”
My cheeks flushed crimson with how descriptive he had become, although he could not see my facial expressions he could probably sense my discomfort.
Augustine continues, “Sarabi refused to bed me, and I had needs, so I allowed another woman to share my bed.” My nose wrinkles in disgust. “Sarabi came into my chambers that same night and found the woman next to me. Angry and hurt, Sarabi wove her spell, revealing herself to being an enchantress. Sarabi had tried to see the good and just in me, but found only an empty shell and a cruel heart belonging to a prince.”