He was able to play his instruments again; and one night, after dinner, he cleared his throat, feeling oddly brave. “You mentioned,” he told Callista cautiously, “that you would like to hear me play. Were you being honest, or is that just something that you said to be polite?”
She made a face at him. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” she pointed out, “but I’m not very good at being polite.”
“Does that mean you’d really like to hear?” He held his breath, waiting. So far, he hadn’t played in her company—or, indeed, anywhere that she might be able to hear it. Still, to say that she inspired his music would be something of an understatement, and he deeply wanted to be able to share it with her.
“I’d really like to hear it.” Ah, there was that smile. He knew that Callista described herself as plain. When he’d cautiously inquired of Hemsworth, he’d even discovered that his butler thought her less beautiful than many of the other young ladies who had made their way through his castle. He had never seen it—and the more he got to know her, the more beautiful he found her. It was as though, he thought, that kindness shined out of her eyes—and when she smiled….
Oh, it was breathtaking when she smiled.
He hesitated, then tucked her hand into the warmth of his arm. “Come with me, then,” he suggested.
They made their way to the music room—a room filled from end to end with instruments. In his youth, he had been encouraged to learn at least one or two of them.
“Oh, my.” Callista spun around, letting him go to spin around and stare at the room.
“You’ve surely seen it before,” he pointed out.
“I have,” she agreed. “But not—not like this. With all the candles lit, and the room bright and clean…it’s beautiful.” She ran one hand gently over a harp, then brushed a violin reverently.
“Do you play?” Griffin asked curiously.
“Oh, well—the piano, a little.” She made a face. “Nothing like what Erin can do. I know she doesn’t play often—she prefers to sing—but she can play almost any instrument she likes, given enough time.”
“Hm.” Griffin lifted the violin into his hands, considering. This was the instrument he knew the best—the one that was easiest for him to manage, since the bow made up for his clumsy fingers. He had managed to remaster the piano, though he didn’t have quite as delicate a touch as he once had. Other instruments, like the harp, would be beyond him until he was back to his true form. “You’ll have to accompany me at some point.”
“I’m not that good.” Callista blushed.
“Sometimes, it’s not how good you are that matters,” Griffin informed her. “It’s the heart that you put into it.” He didn’t know how to make the transition from conversation to music. It had been a long time since he’d been able to observe the social niceties to any real degree, and he hadn’t had many opportunities to be alone with a young lady in his music room. In fact, Callista was the first that he had invited here.
Of course, she was also the first to see him unmasked, his hands ungloved. Playing with clawed hands was difficult enough. Doing it in gloves? That, he simply couldn’t manage.
He could, however, play for her; and so he lifted the violin to his chin and allowed the strains of one of his favorite songs to flow through the music room.
Callista clasped her hands beneath her chin, entranced. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered when the last notes finally faded away.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Griffin hesitated. “I don’t know how familiar you are with music,” he admitted.
“Not very,” Callista confessed. “I know some of the songs that Erin sings, but not much more than that—well, that and the classics that I learned on the piano.”
“Good.” He flashed her a smile that actually showed his fangs. “You’ll like this one.” Callista, he’d noticed, was a dreamer, a romantic at heart. Even if she didn’t know the words—and he certainly wasn’t singing them for her any time soon—she would recognize the heart behind one of his favorite songs.
The gentle strains of a love song lifted, revealing the core of his heart more plainly than any words that he could have spoken. Don’t you know I’m coming to care for you? Can you see how your smile moves me? I’ve come to know you in ways I never dreamed possible, and your kindness is coming to change my faith in the world.
Callista clapped her hands, delighted. He saw her move slightly, swaying from side to side with the music, and lost himself in the notes as they flowed around the two of them.
He played until his fingers felt cramped around the bow, until it was necessary to shake them out. Callista might not have been the musician her sisters were, but he thought she might be more entranced by music than she let on. Ah, Callista, he wanted to tell her. Your gift is no less valid, your heart no less amazing, because your sisters got there first! But he couldn’t say those words aloud to her—not yet.
Not yet—but they were coming.
That evening, as he got ready for bed, Hemsworth appeared out of nowhere, clearing his throat to catch Griffin’s attention.
“Your Highness,” he said cautiously.
Griffin sighed, the glow of being in her presence wearing off fast at that note in his butler’s voice. “What is it?” he asked quietly. Had he done something out of line? Frightened Callista and sent her running? He didn’t think they had done anything unusual this evening—had they?
“The girl has been with us for almost two months,” Hemsworth pointed out quietly.
“I’m aware.” Though actually, for the first time in a long time, he hadn’t been counting the days. He’d just let himself enjoy the time with her and let himself hope, in a tiny corner of his heart, that he might have found the one girl in all the land who could actually see him instead of the curse that had claimed him.
He was almost afraid to pray about it—afraid to ask God whether or not she could possibly be the one he had been waiting for. In spite of his determination to remain aloof, Callista had managed to touch his heart deeply, and no longer having her in his life would quickly break his heart.
“I think…” Hemsworth hesitated. He didn’t like it when this particular servant hesitated, because it almost always meant that he was going to say something he didn’t like. “I think you should give her permission to go to the town.”
His stomach twisted at the thought. “But—” he began.
“It’s been two months, Griffin.” Hemsworth wasn’t without compassion. He knew what it would mean if he sent Callista away.
People who went away didn’t always come back. A simple trip to the town wasn’t usually enough to do it. Most of the time, a few hours away from the castle might dull the memory, but they wouldn’t destroy it completely.
People who didn’t care about him at all—they would disappear immediately, completely forgetting what they were doing here at all. One of the girls had done that. After being with him for two months, she’d gone down to the town one day for a bit longer than usual; after staying for just four hours, she’d completely forgotten that the castle had ever existed. Hemsworth had quietly seen to it that she was able to get home, and as far as he knew, she’d never mentioned him or the castle—or, indeed, anything about those two months of her life—again. People who cared about him a little lasted longer. There had been one girl who, though she’d never seen his face, he’d thought might be a friend. She had stayed overnight in the town when a friend was ill and needed her help.
She hadn’t come back the next morning—hadn’t ever come back.
So many people hadn’t come back. He’d lost servants, friends—
Losing Callista was going to be a greater blow than any of them. She’d only been there for a few weeks. She shouldn’t have wormed her way that far into his heart—but she had. Oh, she had.
“It’s early yet,” he pointed out quietly.
Hemsworth raised an eyebrow. “You’ve always insisted that we try the test by the time the girls had been here for
a month,” he pointed out.
“Well, yes, but—” He spread his hands. “You’ve seen—we’ve been busy. There’s been a castle to explore, and she’s so good with the horses—”
“You’re getting attached.” Hemsworth didn’t sound surprised.
“I like her,” Griffin admitted. “She’s…becoming a friend.” A true friend—the kind he could share his heart with. He hadn’t expected that of her—hadn’t really expected that of anyone, not as long as he continued to be the beast.
She made him feel like a man. He’d tried to hold his heart at bay, but Callista had slipped her way in anyway, becoming more to him than he would have thought possible. He could talk to her—really talk to her about almost anything that was on his mind. They’d discussed history, politics, some of the books that she’d found in the library; and it hadn’t taken him long to realize that he deeply valued her instincts and her observations. If he ever managed to reclaim his kingdom, he wanted someone like her to stand as his adviser—someone who would talk to him frankly and share the things that he didn’t really want to hear, but needed to know, in order to be an effective leader.
“She cares for you,” Hemsworth pointed out.
“But is it enough?” The question hurt.
“You’ll have to send her to find out.”
He sighed. “I was afraid you were going to say that,” Griffin admitted quietly.
“She’s a good girl,” Hemsworth pointed out. “And there’s no doubt in my mind that she cares for you. She certainly enjoys your days together. Perhaps—”
Griffin just shook his head. He didn’t want false promises, false hopes.
Mostly, he wanted it over with so that he would know once and for all if there was any chance that she could care for him that way. If she left—if she forgot him—then it was over. He was going to stop trying, at least for a little while.
If she came back…
*****
“You know, you, ah, don’t have to stay in the castle all the time.”
Callista looked up abruptly at Griffin’s cautious words, frowning at him. “We aren’t staying in the castle all the time,” she pointed out patiently. “We go for rides at least a couple of times a week, and walks in the gardens—and you haven’t stopped me from going down to the stables whenever I want, so—”
He shook his head without actually looking at her. “I didn’t mean—you’ve remained on castle grounds, on castle property, ever since you came here,” he pointed out.
“I thought that was part of the agreement.” She frowned a little bit, confused. “I’m supposed to stay here—to ‘be a companion for you,’ according to the terms of the agreement, but you and I both know part of that is, well, getting to know you well enough to see if I might—” She blushed. “Be able to break—or help you break—the curse. Right?”
“Well, yes, but—” Griffin took a deep breath. “Those terms—they’re there because—” He was the one stammering now. It made her feel at least a little better that he, too, was unable to get words out elegantly sometimes. She would have thought that princes would have lessons in those sorts of things—that they would always speak perfectly, just because they had been taught to do so. She liked being proven wrong. “Well, you understand about the forgetting,” he mumbled.
Callista nodded hesitantly. “But—just going to the village?” she demanded.
Griffin still wasn’t looking at her, but that was all right. She was starting to understand him more—to learn to read the signs of tension along his body. “Yes,” he admitted grimly. “Sometimes, it’s as simple as going to the village.”
“Then should I go?” She hadn’t meant to blurt the words out. “If I forget—I don’t want to forget you.”
That earned her a smile—and finally, finally, he actually looked down at her. “I don’t think you will,” he said quietly. “But if you do, if you can forget me that easily, Callista…” He sighed, a long, gusty sound coming from the beastly snout. “If you forget me so easily, then it’s for the best, wouldn’t you say?”
“It’s not for the best to forget someone who’s—who’s a friend,” she insisted staunchly.
“Then don’t forget.” He brushed his hand across hers—one of those careful touches that she’d realized that he never took lightly. “Go down to the village for a little while today. Explore, see the sights. You wouldn’t want to say that you’ve been locked away in an enchanted castle for a full year and never managed to see any of the sights, do you?”
“But—”
“It’s all right.” He pressed her hand again. “Take a few hours. Take the day, if you like; I have some business I need to see to.”
Callista gave him a dark look. She knew full well that there was no “business” that could possibly demand his attention for the day, but she knew that he was trying to save face—and trying to convince her to give it a try.
Had he gotten tired of her already? Was he secretly hoping that she would decide that he was more trouble than he was worth, or that she would turn out to be like the others, forgetting him the moment her back was turned to him?
She hoped he thought better of her than that. She hoped their relationship meant more than that. But…Her shoulders slumped. “If that’s what you want,” she said a little sadly.
“Here.” Griffin pressed something into her hands: a purse.
“Oh, but I couldn’t—” Callista began to protest.
“You must!” he retorted immediately. “There are delights down in the village—treats you won’t want to turn down. Stay for lunch,” he pressed her. “See the town. And then—and then rejoin me for dinner, and you can tell me all about it, show me your purchases.”
She frowned darkly at him. Did he really want to hear all about it—really want to know—or was he expecting that she wouldn’t even make it back through the castle doors?
She hated that she didn’t know.
“Go on.” He wrapped his hands around hers, gently forcing her much smaller fingers to curl around the bag. “You could visit the bookshop. I daresay there are new volumes there since last I was able to visit—you could add them to the library here.”
Books. Her eyes lit up, she just knew it—there was no stopping it. New books, not the dusty old tomes in the library, but stories, and tales of places far away from where she was, and…Callista danced a little in place, hardly able to help herself.
“You see? You do want to go,” Griffin teased her.
“I’ll be back,” she promised him.
He smiled a little sadly. “I hope so.”
She sighed; but the only way to prove herself to him was to go, and anyway, the lures of the town were starting to call to her. Books—new books! And from the way the satchel jingled in her hand, he had given her more than enough.
He had just better not think that it was a goodbye present, Callista decided grimly—because she’d be back before he knew it.
“Who is that?”
“Have you ever seen her before?”
“Where did she even come from? There’s nothing up that way but forest.”
“My brother said there’s a path that leads back through the trees, but he followed it for hours once, and it didn’t seem to lead him anywhere.”
The whispers followed Callista from the moment she stepped into town—soft, hurried words spoken behind hands, as though their owners weren’t the least bit concerned about being overheard, but rather didn’t want to stomp on propriety completely.
Callista turned her nose up at them, ignoring them completely. Let them whisper. They might not be able to remember the castle hidden back in the forest—not so far off the beaten path at all, but rather just a couple of miles through the trees, a leisurely trip even on foot—but she knew full well where she had come from.
And who she was going back to—preferably with a bag filled full of all the books she could carry. She just knew there was a bookshop around here somewhere. Griffin wouldn’t have taunted he
r that way if there weren’t, and anyway, every town of any size had to have at least one bookshop, didn’t it?
“Oh!” She gasped aloud when she finally found it, tucked away between a sweet shop and a sandwich shop. And wasn’t that convenient? She could have her books, then dart inside the sweet shop and see what they had to offer before taking the time to purchase the lunch Griffin was so determined that she have.
Even if, at the moment, she was far too excited to eat. New books! New ways to pass the time! She enjoyed Griffin’s company, loved living in her own little adventure; but there was something truly special about the opportunity to immerse herself in someone else’s words, to see pieces of the world that she would never be able to see with her own eyes.
Callista almost burst through the doors, surprising the shopkeeper into a gasp of his own.
“Well, hello, there!” he exclaimed, clearly trying to cover up the surprise.
“Good morning,” Callista chirped.
“Can I, er, help you find anything today?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She had never been in a bookshop of her own before. In the past, her brothers had always brought books back for her, or she’d chosen from the collection her father had built up over the years. Even the castle library, with all its dry, dusty tomes, didn’t have half the wonder of this enchanting little shop.
“Just browsing today, then?” he asked cheerfully.
“Well, yes, but—” Callista stared around her, her eyes growing wider with every shelf he looked at.
“Is it your first time in a big village?” The shopkeeper came over to her, dusting his hands off on her apron. His eyes were slightly crinkled at the edges like he spent a lot of time squinting—but they were the kind of crinkles that suggested that he laughed often, too.
Callista just nodded at him, feeling a little bit shy and embarrassed.
“Ever been in a big library before?”
“I—well, sort of,” she admitted, flushing. She hated the way she looked when she flushed, knowing full well that it made her freckles stand out as never before. “I mean, I’ve seen—but nothing like this.” Bright, colorful books were everywhere she turned. She was quite sure that she could happily read half the books in this shop—just sit down and peruse them one by one until she’d gone through them all.
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