Beast: The Untold Legend

by Shoshanna Evers

  “I’m sorry you had to see that.” Victor picked up the brush and avoided her heated gaze. “Not a master, but my mistress, the queen. It is her right. You just happened to walk in on me in the aftermath. I’m not usually so surly.” He looked over his shoulder at her and shrugged, seeing her horrified expression. “Don’t worry about me, I’ve had worse.”

  He could feel her staring at his back, at the wet shirt clinging to his body, as he carefully groomed the mare.

  “While I can’t think of it at the moment,” he teased, facing the horse, “I’m sure I most likely did something to deserve it. If not in this life, then the last. Maybe she knew I was spreading rumors amongst the horses.”

  “So the stories about her cruelty are true,” she said, a trace of anger in her voice. “No one deserves that. To be harmed like that—your skin broken. It sickens me to see someone abuse their power over another that way.”

  Victor shook his head and concentrated on the task at hand. There was nothing he could do to stop the queen. Years ago, when she first started requiring his service, he had tried. It hadn’t ended well for him.

  “To think,” Justine said, “this is to be my queen as well—and my mother-in-law.”

  “But…surely it is a good match, a prince and a princess, right?”

  “Not when the prince is a sixteen-year-old, and I am nearing two and twenty.” She sighed. “Nevermind. Please don’t tell anyone I said that.”

  “Your secret is safe with me.”

  At twenty-five years old, Victor was closer in age to the princess than her groom-to-be. He had only been eighteen, though, when the queen first discovered him working in the stables.

  “What is your name?” the princess asked.

  He froze mid-brush stroke. “Please don’t make me tell you, Your Grace,” he said softly. “If you don’t know my name, I’ll sleep better. Because you could still get me in a lot of trouble if you wanted to.”

  “You are lucky in one thing at least, stablehand,” she said, taking the brush from his hands. “You can choose to marry for love, not politics.”

  The queen would never allow him the freedom to leave her side long enough for him to fall in love with any woman other than herself.

  “Justine,” he said, smiling softly as he tasted her name on his lips, “in this kingdom, I am almost as much a slave as you.”

  ****

  Later that day in her chambers, Justine soaked in a tub of hot water and lavender sachets, melting away the aches from her long horse ride through the countryside.

  At least she’d finally met someone in this kingdom that she could actually talk with. The handsome stablehand with a hard hand and no name.

  That he wouldn’t reveal his name shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise, considering he was still fearful she might use that information to report him. Not that Justine would ever do that. But the stablehand was clearly a wary man.

  Yes…definitely a man. Not like her young husband-to-be.

  She ran a cake of herb-scented soap over her body, taking care to cover every inch of her skin and hair.

  Tomorrow she would be wed to Prince Frederick. She sighed in frustration. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with the boy, he was good-looking and seemed nice enough, and surely he would grow into a gorgeous man some day. If the offer to marry him had come about a decade from now, she may have even been excited.

  But not now. And not without love! It was her one wish—to spend the rest of her life with a man who loved her deeply, and whom she loved in return.

  Instead, she may just end up with her head on a chopping block if she dismayed her soon-to-be queen-mother. Wonderful. And what could a boy, even a prince, do to stop his stepmother? Nothing.

  It was even rumored that the queen was an enchantress who kept her beauty by bathing in virgins’ blood. Would her own blood be next?

  She shuddered at the thought.

  “Your Grace,” her maid called, coming in from the sitting room of her quarters. She dropped her voice to a whisper once they locked eyes. “Her majesty the queen is in the sitting room! I didn’t know she would come calling on your quarters, I am so sorry.”

  Justine looked down at her naked body in the tub.

  “Help me into a robe,” she said, before remembering how angry her orders had made her stablehand. “Um, if you please? Not that one, the satin one with the embroidery. Please.”

  She would look as good as she could on such short notice, but her hair would be wet. So be it.

  In the sitting room, the queen stayed seated as Princess Justine entered and curtseyed before sitting across from her.

  “I must have caught you at a bad time,” the queen said, not sounding one bit concerned.

  “There is no bad time for a queen to come calling,” Justine demurred. “Thank for you taking the time to see me, I am honored.”

  Maybe she should just write Please Like Me on her forehead? That might work. And then she could follow it up with Stop Beating Your Servants. Or Don’t Put a Spell on Me.

  Instead, Justine plastered the requisite smile on her face.

  “Tomorrow is the big day, my dear Princess,” the queen said. “Are you ready? Someday when our beloved king is settled in the grave, my son will be king and you…you will take my place.”

  Oh no. So that was what this was about. The queen wanted to remain queen. In that moment, Justine could see her future laid out in the cold, beautiful queen’s eyes.

  I will not last a year here, she thought. The queen won’t let me live long enough to see her stepson be king. Because that would make Justine the queen, and her mother-in-law-to-be would never allow anyone to take her place on the royal throne. Absolute power was a heady drug.

  People killed to retain their power.

  “May our king live another hundred years, with you by his side,” Justine said. That sounded appropriate.

  “Yes, quite,” the queen murmured. “I don’t mean to keep you. You’re clearly in no state for visitors.”

  Justine bit her lip to keep from making a face at that.

  “I came to give you a token of my affection, that is all.” The queen presented a small box to her with a flourish. The box was tied with a large, golden ribbon with red glass jewels on the ends.

  “Your Majesty,” Justine said, “you are too kind.”

  Please don’t make me open it now. What if it was a spell that would break loose? She looked at the box warily and shook it. Could spells break loose?

  “Chocolate truffles!” the queen said with delight. “You could use some plumping up, my dear.”

  Justine ignored the thinly-veiled insult and smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Try one. I picked the truffles myself. You’ll find they are…unlike anything you’ve tasted before.”

  So…poison, then.

  “I dare not spoil my supper,” she said, “but I can’t wait to try one. Later.”

  “I insist,” the queen said, her smile still on her face.

  The two of them sat there, each smiling at each other even though their eyes spoke of mistrust and contempt. Justine imagined they could keep the false smiles up for hours before one of them broke. It would be she who’d break first—the queen had too much practice at disguising her emotions.

  Well, Justine had known she wouldn’t make it a year. Was tonight the night? She opened the package with trembling fingers. Inside, four chocolate truffles, each drizzled with something sparkling and red.

  God protect me. She lifted one to her mouth and bit it in half. It made her tongue tingle. She dared not swallow.

  “Delicious!” she mumbled, her mouth still full of the chocolate.

  “As are you,” the queen said, standing. “Enjoy your last night as a virgin bride, my dear. Tomorrow you shall wed.”

  As soon as the queen turned toward the door, Justine spat the truffle into her hand, closing her fist around it.

  Poor stablehand. This was his mistress. No wonder he said he’d had wor
se punishments than the vicious stripes she’d seen on his muscular back.

  Her maid closed the door gently behind the queen and turned to Justine. “How kind of her! I wasn’t expecting her to bring you truffles. She never makes those for anyone.”

  Justine ignored her and ran to the wash basin to spit and rinse out her mouth. Swallowing any of those treats would be a bad idea. What was in those truffles? Hallucinogens? Something to make her sick to her stomach?

  The queen wouldn’t poison her to the death, when anyone could trace it back to her, surely?

  “You don’t like them?” the maid asked, watching her from across the room. “I don’t suppose… May I have one? I mean, only if you won’t be eating them, Princess.”

  “NO!” Justine yelled in horror. “Do not even think about it. Throw them out. Promise me you won’t eat them.”

  She dared not tell the maid they could be poisoned, for that was treason to accuse the queen of attempted murder. Hopefully the seriousness of her warning would come through despite not being able to explain why.

  “I am sorry, Your Grace,” the maid sputtered. “That was much too forward of me to even think of asking. I don’t deserve to eat such fine treats, I know. Please forgive me.”

  Justine dropped her voice to a whisper. “This is important. I trust you not to eat them. Just throw them out.”

  The maid kept her head down as she took the box from her hands. “Right away, Your Grace.”

  Still, the princess didn’t like the way her maid eyed the fancy box of chocolates with a desire bordering on lust.

  Please let me be wrong about the queen.

  ****

  Chapter 2

  The Black Capsule

  In the queen’s bedchamber on the other side of the castle, Victor struggled against the ropes that bound him to her large, intricately carved mahogany bed. She’d closed the heavy canopy drapes around the bed to block anyone who entered from seeing what she’d done to him.

  He had to get out of there so he could warn the princess. But he had been trying since the queen left him to play out her murderous intentions. There was no escape, not until his mistress set him free.

  It was too late, anyway… He could hear the queen humming as she made her way back to her chambers. Victor moaned in anguish, his body twisting in the satin sheets.

  “Here I aaaaam,” she sang as she pulled open the canopy to her bed where he lay. “Have you been a good boy while I was gone?”

  He struggled to look at her. “You’ll be hung for this. They’ll know it was you.”

  “Don’t worry about me, darling,” she said, missing the disgust behind his words. “The poison is slow acting; there’s no way anyone would know where it came from.”

  She sat on the bed next to his body, and ran her long fingernails down from his navel to where the little dark hairs disappeared into his trousers.

  His breath caught in his throat. Not now, don’t do this now. Not after what she’d done to Justine.

  “It will take hours before her kidneys shut down,” the queen continued. “And, if somehow they could trace it back to me, well…how was a queen to know she’d accidentally picked poison mushrooms instead of delicious truffles? Quite the accident, really.”

  She laughed, the sound grating on his soul. “But your concern for my neck is very sweet.”

  “Please,” he whispered. Don’t touch me.

  “Victor, lovely Victor. Please what?” she asked, lifting her hand from his trousers. “The deed is done. Thank you for confirming the mushrooms were, indeed, poisonous.”

  Victor groaned. “I need more of the antidote. It’s not working.”

  “Hmmm. That’s odd. I gave you more than enough to cure you.”

  “To be safe,” he pleaded. Justine’s life depended on it. “Another dose of the antidote; your Majesty, I beg you.”

  The queen rolled her eyes and pointed at the ropes which bound him to her bed. The knots fell apart.

  Victor knew she didn’t need to point at the bonds to make them break, but she often did things for show to make her magic seem even more controlled and superior. Why, when only a poor stable boy saw her perform her spells, he did not know. Vanity, perhaps.

  “Thank you,” he said, and got up slowly, pretending to still be ill.

  “Get it yourself. The black capsules in the dish on the right.”

  Victor crossed the cavernous chamber, the thick rugs protecting his bare feet from the cold stone beneath. He took the antidote and pretended to swallow it, keeping the capsule tucked in the pocket of his cheek. Thankfully this time the enchantress hadn’t made him suffer long, and the antidote — which tasted of charcoal, had worked quickly. That wasn’t always the case when she practiced her spells and potions on him.

  It was clear the queen was too excited from having just poisoned the poor girl, so there was no way he was going to escape anytime soon. She would want him around to play with. But all he needed was to get away for a few minutes…

  “Your Majesty, we should celebrate, now that I’m feeling better,” he said.

  She whirled in surprise. “We should!”

  “There’s a bottle of fine wine that’s been aged to perfection in the wine cellar, hidden behind the oak barrels. I’d have to sneak past the chef—”

  “Tell the stupid chef that the queen demands it immediately if he tries to stop you,” she interrupted, as he knew she would.

  “As you wish, your highness.” He pulled on his boots before she could change her mind, and bowed out of the room.

  The clock was ticking as he ran to the East Wing, where he’d heard they were keeping Justine.

  His heart raced in his chest, beating so loudly that he feared someone would hear it. But the wide corridors were empty save for the portraits of royal generations past on the walls.

  Victor kept the capsule in his mouth. He wouldn’t be able to give it to the princess in front of anyone, and if he couldn’t get her alone his only chance was to kiss her palm and deposit it there. Or kiss her lips… no. That would probably get him hanged.

  Please be alone.

  He knocked on her chamber door.

  Silence. And then muffled steps across a rug. “Who—who is it?”

  She might not open the door for him. So Victor opened the door himself, and shut it quickly behind him.

  Justine gasped in fright, and Victor grabbed her, putting his hand over her mouth before she could scream and send the guards running to the rescue.

  “Shhh,” Victor said. “I am not going to hurt you. I’m here to help. You must never breathe a word about this or it will surely be your last breath.”

  She looked up at him, her beautiful eyes wide with fear, and nodded. The scent of lavender in her long, damp hair was intoxicating.

  He felt her say something, her lips moving and her breath hot against his palm.

  “Don’t dare scream.” He lifted his hand just enough to be able to make out the words, ready to clamp down again immediately should she scream for help.

  “I promised I would never tell,” she gasped. “I keep my promises. Don’t hurt me.”

  “I know,” he whispered. “I trust you on that. But you are in danger. The queen has sent you poisoned truffles. She wants to kill you.”

  Justine recoiled as he let her go. “I knew it! I knew those chocolates were poisoned. They tasted off.”

  “You ate them?” His face fell. “I am too late.”

  “She made me take a bite of one! I didn’t want to. My lips tingled so I spat it out as soon as she left. But I’m still alive, am I not? I’m all right.”

  Victor took the capsule out of his mouth. “This is the antidote. She gave me one after trying her poison on me first. You must take this.”

  “You need it more than me,” Justine said.

  “No. I took one already. I begged for a second one, but I ran here with it, for you. You must take it. The queen expects you to die overnight…she’s gone mad, you don’t know. She do
esn’t think the poison will be traced back to her.”

  She paused, looking up at him. “Let me have it, then.”

  He placed the sticky capsule in her hand and closed her fingers over it with his, so she wouldn’t drop it.

  “Thank you,” she said. “You were good to have warned me.”

  With a practiced gesture, she motioned toward the door. “You can’t be seen here. It will ruin me.”

  “Ruin you?” He cocked his head to the side, taking in the way her nightgown clung to her figure.

  “You know what people would say if you were seen leaving my chambers at night.” She frowned, and gestured to the door again.

  He smirked. Right. Because of course a beautiful princess would deign to give herself to the stablehand. Why not?

  “The king would have every right to call off the wedding entirely if there was a question regarding my purity,” she said with more urgency. “And I imagine you would be hung after all, and since you seemed so against that this morning in the stables…Good night to you.”

  “I’m not leaving just yet,” Victor said, and nodded to her hand.

  “Oh?” Justine’s teeth set on edge, as if she was ready for a fight. “I suppose now is where you tell me your kindness comes with a price?”

  “I risked my life to bring this to you,” he said. “Humor me and take the medicine now, before I go back to the queen to be her entertainment for the evening. That way at least I’ll know you’re safe. That’s not too high a price, don’t you think?”

  “I suppose not,” she whispered. “I thought you’d want something…more.”

  This woman, who had every authority in the kingdom over him, seemed acutely aware that the power balance had shifted behind closed doors. When they were alone, her royalty meant nothing unless he chose to accept her dominion. He did not.

  Unlike the queen, Justine could not force him with magic to do anything against his own will. The realization was freeing—as if being in her presence, he could be his true self.

  Victor couldn’t help but to glance at her breasts, barely covered by her nightgown. He knew what she meant now when she said he could ruin her. To a woman like her, a man like him took what he wanted. Indeed, the fabric that covered her was so delicate he could rip it off of her with one hard tug. One hand to rend her naked, one hand to cover her beautiful mouth once more…