The muscles in Karyna’s arms tightened, and she fought to keep her voice calm. “I still think . . .”
Setella paused in her work and turned a motherly gaze on Karyna. “What would you have me do? I’m too old to try to be everywhere at once. I have no idea how Lady Ahren got her hands on my keys.”
The old woman’s words and tone deflated Karyna’s anger, and she regretted her sharp words. “It wasn’t your fault, Setella,” she sighed. “I know that.”
Setella offered her a weary smile. “We’re all stretched to breaking, some days.”
Abandoning her place in the doorway, Karyna stepped into the kitchen, snitched a slice of carrot, and leaned against the chopping block, munching pensively. It tasted bitter, however, and she swallowed it down with difficulty. “Despite her personality,” she said flatly, “I had hoped Lady Ahren would be the one.”
But Setella knew Karyna too well. “What else is bothering you?” she asked, eyeing the young lady before her.
Karyna bowed her head. “She said some horrible things about Prince Barend. And she blamed Bellenya for the curse. How can people believe such horrible things?”
“The curse did fall on the princess’s eighteenth birthday,” Setella reminded her.
“That doesn’t mean she’s responsible. She could never be capable of such evil.”
“You don’t need to defend her to me.” Setella shook her knife at the girl before continuing her work. “I knew her even longer than you did. Like a granddaughter to me, she was! You’re not the only one around here who loves the princess. Or the prince, either.”
Karyna chewed on her thumbnail, caught herself, and instead brushed invisible dust from her skirts while her mind replayed the events of the morning. She jerked her head up in alarm and clapped a hand across her mouth.
“What is it?” Setella asked.
“Lady Ahren mentioned that Barend was there when she unlocked the Throne Room doors. She said he went mad and ran off.” Karyna felt as though a knife cut her to the quick. How could she have forgotten?
“Ran off?” Setella stopped her chopping, and her eyes met Karyna’s. “Do you think he left the palace grounds?”
“I don’t know. The way she described his behavior, it’s possible.”
“You want to go after him?”
Karyna hesitated, but only for a breath. “Yes. But how will I find him?”
“Look for tracks, I suppose,” Setella grimaced. “Lucky for you we had that late snow last night. If you don’t see any tracks outside, he’s probably in the castle somewhere, and all this fuss and worry is for nothing.”
“If he is out there, what if I can’t bring him back?”
“You managed just fine the night the curse fell,” Setella said. Her voice lowered when she added, “And that other time.” She made a shooing motion with her hands. “Take a rose with you. That seems to do the trick. And get going! We can’t let him wander around out there on his own!”
Karyna allowed herself to be hustled out of the kitchen. She raced up the stairs to her little room and retrieved her warm cloak and sturdy walking boots. Then, still at a run, she hurried to Bellenya’s chambers and retrieved one of her dried roses, tucking it inside a small satchel. Setting her shoulders and pulling the fur-lined hood of her cloak over her crown of braided hair, Karyna headed outside.
Chapter 2
WORRY FOR THE prince’s safety crowded Karyna’s thoughts even as she felt grateful for the surprise snowfall the night before. Instead of needing to ask Henry for help, she could easily follow Barend’s tracks through the garden and, just as she had feared, across the invisible border.
A shudder coursed through her body as she passed out of the palace grounds and into the wild woods beyond. The curse did not affect everyone in the same way, and those who felt it most keenly were those who had been at the palace when the curse fell. To Karyna, stepping outside the palace grounds felt as if someone had placed an icicle on the back of her neck. To some it was like a wild buzzing of bees in their ears, and to others it was physically painful, like pressing through a tangle of thorny vines. For those entering the palace grounds, the sensation was milder. Those who noticed it at all agreed that it was similar to the feeling one experienced upon hearing the distant howl of a wolf: frightening enough to make one shiver and glance over one’s shoulder, but not enough to cause terrified flight.
At first the tracks were spaced far apart, as though he had been running. But after she crossed into the woods, it seemed he had lost his sense of urgency. His tracks grew closer together and less direct. She followed the meandering trail for a while, finding it more difficult here under the trees, where less snow had fallen. Yet to a watchful eye, signs of his passage were evident everywhere: an overturned log, claw marks on several trees . . . and the bloody carcass of a deer. Karyna quickly looked away from the carnage, trying not to think about the prince eating raw meat like an animal.
Her boots swished through the slushy snow. There was a frosty nip to the wind, but Karyna could smell the fresh scent of spring on its back. Tender green shoots poked up through the snow, squirrels chattered, and the music of birdsong filled the trees above her. It was her favorite time of year, when the very air seemed infused with hope. However, Karyna could not enjoy the signs of spring; her objective was to find the prince and bring him home.
To her relief it did not take long to catch up with Barend. Tired from his initial burst of energy, he had apparently found a hollow in the underbrush and flopped down to rest. He must have heard or scented her approach, for when she spotted him he was already watching her. Deep in his chest a growl of warning rumbled.
Prince Barend was enormous—twice the height of a normal man if he stood on his hind legs, though he mostly stayed on all fours. His body was most like that of a wolf, though his four massive feet were more like a bear’s, with sharp, dangerous claws. Shaggy black fur covered his body, and his snout was long and pointed. His eyes were those of a predator, yet they were also the only thing about him that remained even slightly human. Some called him a beast, though his appearance was more frightening than ugly. While inside the palace grounds, he had the mind of a man. Outside, however, he was wholly wild.
And yet Karyna believed she had seen recognition in his eyes the first time he left the palace grounds. She had run after him that day, confused and frightened but clinging to the fact that he had spoken her name before he fled and believing that, despite his appearance, he was still Barend. Neither one of them had known what would happen when he crossed the boundary line, and when in the forest he whirled to face her, she had known true terror. There had been nothing of Barend left in him. Karyna had frozen, babbling frantically, trying to remind him of who he was. Had she seen a flicker of awareness, of remembrance? When he lowered his terrible muzzle to her hair, she had known death was near.
But he had merely inhaled the scent of the roses woven into her dark braids and become docile and submissive, meekly following her back to the palace.
The second and only other time Barend had left the palace grounds was when his parents sent knights to attempt to bring him home. That had been even more terrifying to watch. Once across the boundary, Barend had gone wild and dangerous. Two of the knights were badly wounded before Karyna was able to get there, rose in hand, to calm him down.
Uttering soothing noises and taking care to make no sudden moves, Karyna now lowered the satchel from her shoulder. The beast emerged from the thicket and stalked toward her on huge, stealthy paws that made no sound even as they sank into the muddy ground. He snarled, pawing at the ground, then reared up on his hind legs and bellowed an angry roar. When Karyna did not react, he dropped heavily to the earth, still uttering menacing growls. His breath steamed in the cold air, and Karyna felt her heart begin to race as he stalked toward her.
Her fingers fumbled as she loosened the laces on the satchel. He was just a few paces away, now. His lip curled, revealing long, dagger-like teeth. Karyna’s
breath came quicker. She wrestled with the flap and heard stitches on the cover tear in her haste to get it open. She thrust her hand inside. The beast drew near, and by the gleam in his eye she knew he meant to kill her, even as he had killed that deer.
Karyna could not control the gasp of terror that escaped her lips as her fingers found the rose. Closing her eyes and clenching her teeth to keep from screaming, she pulled it out of the satchel and thrust it between herself and those terrible jaws.
A sweet aroma filled the air as though an entire rosebush had burst into bloom nearby. The beast quieted. His nose quivered, taking in the scent.
Why did it work? What hold did the roses have over him? How were they connected to the curse? Karyna had pondered these questions for two years, but she possessed no answers.
Barend put his nose out to the flower. The transformation was instantaneous, just as it had been before. The wildness left his eyes, and his entire being wilted. Karyna let out her breath in a sigh of relief. She pulled her cloak close around her with one hand and turned toward home. Barend followed her quietly, his gaze fixed upon the rose.
They were not far from the palace, for which Karyna was grateful. When they regained the confines of Thorndale’s grounds, Prince Barend’s eyes lit once more with intelligence and reason, and he swung his head from side to side.
“What am I doing here?” he thundered in confusion. “What happened?” He spotted Karyna near at hand and stared at her for a long moment. “You had to bring me back again, didn’t you?” he asked. His voice was deep and rough, but it was a blessing the curse had left him any speech at all.
Karyna nodded mutely and held up the rose by way of explanation. She couldn’t help asking, “Why did you leave the palace grounds?”
Prince Barend blinked in confusion. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “I remember seeing Lord Worvenson’s daughter in the hallway, and . . . a darkness washed over me. I did not intend to leave the grounds. Forgive me. I know it must be frightening for you to have to come after me,” he said, misinterpreting her melancholy expression. “There are others who could have been assigned this task.”
Karyna shook her head. “Not really,” she spoke without thinking, and then felt her face grow warm with embarrassment. “I mean, I’m the only one who . . . I’d be afraid someone else would—”
“Get hurt,” he interrupted gruffly. “Forgive me again, dear Karyna. I do not mean to frighten you.”
He turned and loped away before she could reply. She watched him go and felt vexation burn away her fatigue.
“That’s not what I meant at all,” she said to the empty air. “I only meant I’d be afraid someone else might hurt you.”
Karyna had to search a bit to find Setella and inform her of the prince’s safe return. The older woman was outside beating rugs when Karyna finally found her. Even after two years, Setella was reluctant to delegate the meaner chores to Karyna, though Karyna had reminded her often that rank meant nothing in an empty, cursed palace. Her skills as the princess’s lady-in-waiting were wasted in a castle that housed no princess, and being a baron’s daughter did not mean she should sit about idle while her home crumbled to pieces around her. Still, Setella and the other servants seemed bent on viewing her as the de facto mistress of the castle.
“You shouldn’t be doing that,” Karyna admonished.
“I couldn’t sit still with worrying about you and the prince,” Setella replied. “Are you hungry? I kept the stew warm over the coals on the hearth.”
“I’m famished, though I doubt Barend will be taking supper.” Karyna wrinkled her nose in distaste. “He already ate most of a deer.”
Setella raised her eyebrows but did not appear as disgusted as Karyna felt. Instead of commenting on the prince’s appetite or his lack of humanity she merely asked, “So the rose worked again?”
Karyna nodded and wrestled the rug off the line. Together they rolled it up and carried it into the palace. Back in the kitchen, Setella ladled stew into a bowl for Karyna, and cut a thick slice of bread, which she slathered with butter and blueberry preserves. Karyna dove into the food and for a while was too busy eating to converse. As she ate, the events of the day crashed down on her. She was weary in both body and spirit. Though her worry for the prince had lifted now that he was back inside the palace walls, in its place remained the constant ache she felt on his behalf.
She wondered too where Bellenya was, why she had not been found. And if she was safe.
“By the by, Henry escorted Lady Ahren off the premises.” Setella smirked, handed Karyna a cup of water, and then disappeared into the pantry with the rest of the blueberry preserves.
“Good,” Karyna whispered, and took another bite of stew. She would not miss Lord Worvenson’s daughter.
“How did the prince seem when you brought him back? Is he well?” Setella called out as she returned.
“He’s in his right mind again, but I’m worried about him.” Karyna set down her spoon and rested her elbows on the table, something she would never have done before the curse fell. “I wish there was something I could do.”
“I understand.” Setella rounded the table and put an arm around Karyna’s shoulders. “But we don’t have enough information to act upon. And we can’t very well go wandering around the countryside searching for shadows.”
“I know.” Exhausted, Karyna bent her head and smothered a yawn in her hand.
Setella removed Karyna’s now-empty dishes. “Go get some rest,” she advised. “Perhaps things will look brighter come morning.”
Karyna nodded and returned to her own rooms, where she dressed for bed. Though exhausted, she couldn’t fall asleep. Her thoughts kept swirling back to the curse, her father, Barend, Bellenya, and the mystery surrounding them all.
Eventually, too restless to relax, she got up and paced around her room. Her eyes alighted on the satchel hanging on its hook. She removed the rose from within it and sat on her bed, staring at the flower. She did not usually keep roses in her own room; they were for Bellenya’s chambers, and even in Bellenya’s absence she honored the princess by keeping the roses sacred, though she knew Bellenya would have called her silly for doing so.
At length, she placed the rose on the table near her bed. Its sweet fragrance filled the room, and Karyna drifted into a deep sleep.
She stood on the garden path under pale moonlight. Hurt and humiliation clawed through her heart; rage turned it to stone. She clenched her hands into fists and felt a sharp pain.
Numbly, she looked down and realized she had tightened her grasp on the stem of the rose she still held. The thorns bit into her skin, and blood dripped out of her fist.
She looked up, her teeth grinding together. Before her, dark and foreboding despite the moonlight, loomed the towers of her home . . . her chosen prison in which she lived alone. Alone with her anger, which whirled through her, an uncontrollable maelstrom of hatred and bitterness, she exploded into the night, a snarling, ravenous beast.
The next morning Karyna knelt in the garden, her long brown skirts pulled up into her belt to keep them out of the dirt. Her garments were not so fine as the gowns she had worn before the curse, but she liked to keep them tidy. Over her frock she wore an old apron with deep pockets for her garden tools. Her long black braid circled her head, hidden beneath a strip of cloth, though a few wisps of hair escaped and fell down around her face.
Snow lingered in shady spots, but the air was warm, as though spring had finally won its seasonal argument. Karyna was glad for the respite; she needed to be out of doors. She had not slept well, her rest plagued by nightmares. She had dreamed a strange dream last night—a dream of a once-loved place transformed into a haunt of sorrow and terror.
Her gloved hands dug into the soft, wet soil, and she shook the elusive remnants of the nightmare away by pulling early weeds. In two months the first roses would begin blooming, and she wanted to make sure the plants were healthy and the beds tidy.
As she worked, her
mind spun. There was little she could do to end the curse, but she hated waiting around, hoping someone else would solve the problem. Barend deserved to go home to his family. And Bellenya must be found. Karyna worried about the princess above all else.
“Good morning, Karyna.” Barend’s deep, strangely elegant voice pulled Karyna from her thoughts.
“Good morning,” she replied, glad of the company. She rubbed her arm across an itch on her forehead.
“You have mud on your face.”
Though his animal voice could be difficult to understand, he sounded amused. She craned her neck to look up at him again. “And you have leaves in your fur,” she replied. “Did you sleep outside again last night?”
“It gets too hot inside.” He shook his heavy coat as though to emphasize his point, jowls swinging and ears flapping.
Karyna stood and removed her gloves, tucking them into the pocket of her apron. “Here, let me help.” As she started plucking leaves out of his black fur, Karyna hid a smile. She never would have dreamed she would be so familiar with a prince . . . albeit one trapped in beastly state. But after two years of isolation, a comfortable friendship had developed between her and Barend, transcending all class distinctions.
Barend twitched in embarrassment, but he did not move away. Karyna’s fingers found a knotted mess of fur wrapped around a stubborn burr, and she began working it free. He stood quietly under her ministrations, neither quivering nor flinching even when she accidentally pulled too hard. He seemed so different here inside the palace grounds, strangely tame and yet powerful. She felt the warmth emanating from his body and wished everyone could see him as she did: gentle and lordly, a truly noble spirit.
Lady Ahren’s cruel words from the day before rang in her ears, but she pushed them away.
Five Enchanted Roses: A Collection of Beauty and the Beast Stories Page 18