“What?” Roz saw him coming and side-stepped him again, lurching for the door. “Leuthar! Stop this! You're not acting like yourself.”
“I’m fine! I'm just trying to get rid of a menace. They told me. They told me this is all your fault!” Spit hurled from his red face, lips compressed, and hands reached for her.
I didn’t realize it was this bad, Roz’s inner voice panicked. This is my fault!
“Who are you talking about, Leuthar? Who are ‘they’?”
Waving his hands around in the air, he responded, “Them! All of them!”
He swept his hands around the room to indicate people standing in the room. Roz took a look around, but she saw only the same furniture and dust as before. She knew he was hallucinating.
Walking wide around him, Roz said, “We should go, Leuthar. They’re telling you we need to leave. There’s nothing here for us.”
“Don’t pretend to know them. You don’t know what they’re saying. Only I know. They’ve chosen me to deliver the message. You have to stay, Roz.”
Shaking her head and rushing to the door, Roz was caught off guard when hands gripped her shoulders and yanked. Hurtling backward, knocked off balance, Roz’s arms shot out in an attempt to reach out for something.
Grabbing onto Leuthar’s arm, she righted herself before crashing to the floor. She let go of his arm as his hands reached out for her again.
“Nina! Ev!” she called out.
Where was her team?
“Stop!” he hissed and grabbed her arm.
In the next minute, they were in a battle. Leuthar had his arms around her neck, and Roz threw herself backward into his body. Roz rolled her body down and pulled her head from between his arm and torso.
Shoving him, she took off for the door and shouted for her team. She had reached the doorway when hands grabbed her from behind once more.
Come on, team! Where are you?
She jabbed an elbow into his stomach. Hearing him grunt, she yanked her right arm free, but his left gripped her tight. Twisting on her heel, she pushed into him and threw him off balance.
Leuthar didn’t release her. He fell back a step, and taking his other hand, he slammed it against her ear. Black and white lights had her blinking.
Her right foot got caught behind her left boot, and she felt her right leg twist. Caught up in trying to maintain her balance, Roz reached out her hand. Her vision was clearing as Leuthar shoved her as hard as he could.
Leg buckling and unable to stop herself, arms wind-milling, she pitched toward the floor. As she fell, she saw Leuthar smiling back at her and exiting the door.
The slam of it closing ricocheted through her as her head made contact with something sharp, and her vision blurred. Crashing to the floor, her head bashed to the floor, and her eyes filled with black.
11
“I’m going to kill him,” Beast growled as he shoved the curtain aside and stepped into his room.
Roz was stretched out, face up, on the floor. Unsure what to do, the beast rushed to the door and threw it open. There were no bodies in the hallway. He couldn’t go after them, but he could speed them away from his domain.
Snapping his fingers, his ears perked, and he could hear them exiting his home.
“We found nothing,” a voice said.
“The beast is a myth,” another voice cried.
“We wasted ten years on this plan! Now what so we do?”
Beast walked around Roz to the window and watched them trail out the door, one after the other. Their mumblings continued, but once they reached his front gates, he snapped his fingers again.
They walked through, huddled outside the iron bars, and turned back to look up at the dark, stone castle. Watching them, he concentrated on what they were saying.
“What are we doing here?” they asked.
“Did the beast lure us here?”
“We should go home.”
“What’s going on?”
After a few minutes, they dispersed and headed home. Their murmurs continued as they walked away. Their heads kept turning to look back, but no one returned.
“That’s right. Go away. Go home. There’s nothing to see here.”
Turning, he gazed at Roz and wondered what he should do. He went to her and bent down to check her pulse. She was alive and breathing.
“I’m going to keep her,” he whispered.
Shaking his head, he didn’t know where this thought originated, but he liked it. The others wouldn’t come back for her. He made sure of that.
As soon as he sensed all the townspeople had left, Beast bent to pick up Roz. Leaning over her, he studied her face. She had freckles. He hadn't noticed them in the mirror.
This close he could see the individual dots within the mass. They made her seem very young and blended across her light skin. Her brows and lashes were black.
Imagining her reaction at finding him hovering over her, he picked her up and crossed the room with all haste. Once he had entered the quarters across from his own, he placed her gently on the bed and retreated to the doorway. He stepped over and pulled the cord that would summon Buford.
As usual, the older man was prompt. He was in the room just as Beast moved away from the bed where he had placed Roz.
“Sire?” The concerned, questioning voice of Buford made Beast smile.
“All is well, Buford, but it seems we will have a guest. She was left behind by her party in a very abrupt fashion,” Beast explained what had happened.
“Please, call Mrs. Hausmeister,” Beast told him. “We're going to need to ensure she has everything she needs. Will you check the house to ensure our visitors haven’t left anything else behind?”
“Yes,” Buford's expression was one Beast had never seen before. If he wasn't mistaken, the old man's face held something that looked a little like hope.
“You’re not the only one unafraid of me,” Beast observed as he stared at the door.
“Sire?” Buford's voice held more amusement than question.
“Nothing, Buford. Nothing at all,” he said, and returned to his room.
“Everything as normal, Sire? Would you like breakfast served at seven as usual?”
“Yes, but make sure Mrs. Hausmeister takes care of the girl first.”
“Of course.” Buford followed him into the depths of his closet, where he had gone to find clothes.
“Do you wish for me to call for Pierre now?” Buford prepared to call for the Beast’s personal valet.
“No, I can manage on my own,” Beast replied, gruffly.
“Of course,” Buford said, but he didn't withdraw.
Knowing the servant had something on his mind, Beast waited.
“Sire, do you plan on the young lady staying with us long? Won't her family miss her and come back for her?”
“Not at the moment. I made certain she was safe with us for now.”
“Will she consider herself safe?” Buford boldly asked.
“I don't know,” Beast whispered.
“Then we shall endeavor to make her so. I will bring your coffee, sire.” With that, Buford left the room and didn't return for several minutes.
Within his absence, Beast dressed for the day in more formal attire than he normally wore. Pants, dress shirt, and socks worn beneath an old robe. He stood in his doorway waiting to see what Mrs. Hausmeister would tell him.
While waiting, he made a tour of his quarters. Fussing with the drapes, picking up and putting down knick-knacks, he twisted the tie on the front of his robe into a knot.
Letting out a fierce growl that shook the room, he turned to his mirror and commanded, “Show me the town.”
It was as if they’d never contemplated attacking the castle before. Each had returned to their homes. It was going on five o’clock now, and some, like Roz’s father, were starting to get ready for the day.
Houses were black or lit with lights. The electricity the Second Kingdom, obviously, gave to them ran for a few hours every
morning and evening. For a few minutes, he witnessed their normal return to life. At least, for the time being, they were unaware of Roz's absence and weren't planning to return and attack him.
Sighing, he asked, “Show me Leuthar.”
The mirror focused on Roz’s house. It wouldn’t allow him inside the home, but he knew the boy must be inside. The lights were on in the home, and he figured the father was up and preparing for the day.
He left the mirror on their home. At fifteen after five, Roz’s father exited the house and moved on down the road heading in the opposite direction. The lights were off now, and even after fifteen more minutes, they didn’t come on.
Bored, the beast shrug and rolled his shoulders. Looking at the door, he wished for his servants to pick up the speed. Tilting his head, he crossed his arms and turned back to the mirror.
“Show me Roz,” he asked.
Since the room was a part of his castle, he was able to see within. The mirror showed her still asleep under the covers. Her black lashes rested against her cheekbones and her dark head stood out upon the light pink pillowcase. Leaning forward, his elbows rested on his knees, and he wondered if she dreamed.
“What would her dreams be?” he asked aloud, “Would they be good dreams or bad? Are any of them of me?”
Mrs. Hausmeister came into view. She tucked the covers under the girl’s chin and felt her forehead. He saw her walk across the room to a table where she’d placed a bowl.
Picking it up, she walked back to the bed. Taking a wash cloth out, she ran it over Roz’s face and started to check through her hair.
Knowing she’d find a bump on the back of her head, Beast decided to give them the privacy they needed. Since he’d ascertained she was alive and receiving treatment, he requested the mirror to turn back to her house.
The lights were still off. No movement could be detected. Relieved, he sat in his chair.
“Where’s me tea?” he muttered.
As if hearing him, Buford popped into the room.
“Sorry, sir. Mrs. Hausmeister has several burners in use, and I had to wait for her to clear one before I could utilize it for water.”
“I did wonder,” Beast admitted.
“She boiled some water for the girl’s wound. She’s taking care of her now. Food prep is underway.”
“Thank you, Buford. I’m confident you both will take care of everything. Please let me know the moment she awakes.”
“Of course, sir. Would you like your coffee with breakfast?”
“Yes, thank you. Buford?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Do you think I’ve made the right decision in keeping her here?”
Buford’s brows rose high on his long forehead, and he didn’t answer right away. Beast could see his thoughts on his face.
“I believe you did what you thought was best, sir. The young lady needs your assistance, and it’s nice to see you helping her. I hope it will be a good experience for us all.”
“Thank you, Buford. I agree.”
“You’re welcome, sire. I’m going to go see about your breakfast now. Mrs. Hausmeister will check in when she has finished.”
Beast nodded, and Buford walked to the door. As he exited, they both heard a loud crash and yelling.
Looking over his shoulder, Buford’s mouth dropped open as he stared at the beast.
“Show me Roz,” Beast commanded the mirror.
The room pulled up, and Beast found himself confronted with bright, dark eyes and a red face. Roz stood on the side of the bed, one hand resting on the covers, and the other hand holding a knife.
“Well,” Beast muttered, “this just got interesting.”
12
“I think I’m going to puke.”
Roz felt as if a stone statue had taken up residence in her brain and was attempting to make mush out of it. The pounding was repetitious and violent. Groaning, she decided to leave her eyes shut.
“Nope,” she moaned. “I’m not opening my eyes at all. That will be a bad idea.”
Staying very still, she held her breath for a moment. Letting it out through puckered lips, she tried to control the pain of each movement. A rustle on her left had her stiffening.
A throb shot through her skull. Sucking in a breath, she tried to listen. Her stomach lurched.
“Oh no.” She sat up in bed and grabbed the trashcan being held out to her.
Throwing up, Roz groaned. Someone held back her hair. The female voice kept telling her she’d be all right.
Spitting into the trash can, she reopened her eyes and stayed where she was. The voice wasn’t her mother’s, and she knew something wasn’t right. Her stomach clenched, and Roz swallowed over the burning sensation in the back of her throat.
Slow breath, eyes assessing immediate surroundings, fingers digging into trash can, Roz waited until the woman released her hair and took a step back. She waited with her head over the wastebasket until she felt some control return to her.
Stomach calming, pain still beating against the back of her head, Roz steadied herself and waited.
“Are you all right, my dear? I want you to know you’re safe here. We are going to do everything in our power to protect you,” the woman’s voice told her.
“Protect me from who?” Roz asked.
She knew what the woman was going to say. She didn’t recognize the room she was in or the woman talking to her. She’d never seen the older lady in her life. Considering everybody knew each other in town, Roz knew there was no reason for her not to recognize the woman.
“Well, uh, I…” the woman couldn’t speak.
“The beast?” Roz asked.
“If you’d like to call him such,” was the hesitant reply.
Roz had been peeling the cover off her legs as they spoke. One hand held the basket against her knee. Body reacting, she threw the can in the woman’s direction but not directly at her.
The woman jumped backward, and Roz launched herself off the bed and onto the other side. Picking up a clock on the bedside table, she threw it across the room and managed to hit the wall with a crash.
Ducking, she ignored the leap in her stomach and grabbed the knife she’d stuffed into her shoe. Chest heaving, head aching, Roz maintained her balance as she stared at the room and assessed her escape options.
“The beast is real?” she whispered.
“My dear, calm down. I’m not going to hurt you. No one will.” The woman’s hands were held up and out.
“Where is the beast?” Roz asked, again.
“He is in his rooms. Can you sit back down? You look as if you’re going to fall over,” the woman cautioned.
“I need to find him.”
“I’m sure he’ll turn up sooner or later. For now, why don’t you sit back down? Are you hungry?”
Growling, Roz shook her head and stopped immediately. “Owwww,” she moaned. “What happened? Did the beast attack me?”
“No,” the woman sounded appalled.
Blinking, Roz tried to stay still for a moment. She reached out a hand and rested it on the bed covers. Dizziness filled her.
“What happened?”
“I’m sorry, my dear. I don’t know all the circumstances.”
“How can you say it isn’t the beast then?”
“I know him,” she replied.
Roz was thrown off by her honest and simple statement. The woman looked very serious. She was frowning with her hands on her hips.
“My apologies,” Roz said. Leaning on the bed, she took a deep breath and shut her eyes. “He won’t come in here, will he?”
“Of course not. The king knows better than to enter a woman’s room.”
“I hear the indignation in your voice, so I’ll take that answer at face value. Now, please explain the work ‘king’.”
“What do you mean?”
“You just called the beast a ‘king’. Are you delusional by chance?”
“Young lady, I would respectfully ask you not to ta
lk to me in such a fashion. I’ve been with the king since he was a boy. I know what I’m talking about even if you don’t.”
Roz opened her eyes and focused on the woman. “First, I may throw up again. Second, the beast isn’t a king. What are you talking about?”
Clearing her throat, the woman picked up the trashcan from the floor. Muttering, “Well, you shouldn’t have thrown it at me.” She brought it over to the bed, set it down, and backed up a pace.
“The king is who you call the beast. This is his home. I’ve known him since he was born. Any other questions?”
“I’m sorry,” Roz raised a hand. “You knew this beast when he was born?”
“The king’s family has been on the thrown for generations.”
“I can see they’re doing a great job,” Roz mocked.
Taking the wastebasket, she pulled it close. Swallowing, she waited for the eventual outcome. Her stomach grumbled, and her eyes blurred.
“Why don’t you hold onto your questions, and we’ll get you taken care of for now.” The woman’s voice held a more standoffish quality than before, and Roz knew she’d angered her.
Needing a friend, Roz amended her attitude. “Thank you. I appreciate your help. I’m sorry I threw the trashcan in your direction.”
“Apology accepted. May I look at the back of your head?”
“I think that might be a good idea.”
“Come sit over here at the table. As soon as you’re feeling up to it, I’ll get you some food. I am having a maid round up some clothing as well. The queens have a few stashed in their rooms.”
“Queens?” Roz paused in coming around the bed. “Are there more people in this castle than we thought?”
“The king and his servants are the only ones who live here. His parents died a long time ago.”
“Did he kill them too?”
“They died before the curse,” the woman told her.
Roz caught her stiff tone and dark frown. She nodded and continued to the table. Sitting in the chair, she took another deep breath and bit her lip.
“My name is Mrs. Hausmeister. I’m the cook here and have been for several years. What’s your name, my dear?”
The Four Tales Page 31