Chapter 9
Leona’s eyes darted open when she heard the sound of a heavy lock turning. She hadn’t slept well at all. Her thoughts had been too near the surface, her fear too great, to allow her much rest. She winced when she realized, however, that during the hours she had spent immobile, her muscles had once more frozen themselves. As her eyes blinked rapidly to adjust to the soft morning light, she held her breath a moment, realizing that this was her last sunrise. This was the last light of day she would ever see again.
She almost cried out in relief to see that it was Mr. Green, and not Mr. Bradley, that had come to claim the prisoner.
She looked up at him with empty eyes. “My muscles have frozen stiff,” she said in a low, flat voice.
Mr. Green’s lips thinned. He walked over to her, however, and pulled her up, carefully. She tried not to cry out at the pain. Her breath came rapidly, however, and Mr. Green held her for a moment, letting her try and adjust.
She could not look at him, could not even thank him for this small kindness. It was he who spoke, spoke words she had never again thought to hear.
“You know I would have given anything for you, Leona,” he whispered.
Leona closed her eyes in pain, whispering, “Lewis-”
“Don’t. You made your choice.”
Leona opened her eyes, and suddenly Lewis Green let go of her, letting her stand on her own. Leona stared into his eyes, for the first time in years seeing her old friend, instead of the hardened man his twin’s death had left him. “It would never have been right, Lewis, after Gerry died. He would have given me everything too. And I never would have given either of you anything.”
Lewis looked hopeless. “I can’t let you do this, Leona. To die for a beast! Destin was my best friend- and I know you didn’t hurt anybody!”
Leona’s eyes hardened. “You know a girl who died a long time ago, Mr. Green. Beasts are nothing but fictional characters, made up in the mind’s eye to excuse our faults. Don’t try and excuse mine, Mr. Green. I killed him, and I will die for it.”
Lewis Green once more flattened his stare, letting his thoughts become unreadable, retreating once more into himself. They had long ago let go of their lives together, long ago stopped pretending that it didn’t matter who they were. Children grow up, and with the two standing in the cold cell, that time had left them bitter and estranged.
Mr. Green grabbed Leona’s arm, propelling her forward, all time for talk long past. He led her to a high platform in the town center, and a shiver ran down her spine as her wide eyes saw the heavy rope of the noose as it hung, limply, at the platform’s center. Her feet felt like lead as she tried to put one in front of the other, her eyes never straying from that rope.
Mr. Bradley waited with a Bible next to it, face set in stone. Hands still tied behind her back, filthy, dress torn, hair swinging wildly in the bitter air, Leona Winters took the platform, and stood tall. Her stomach felt so empty, bile swam around making her nauseous, but she couldn’t have eaten had anything been brought to her. Her entire body shook with cold and fear, but her eyes stayed empty, unable to focus, not daring to look down and see the crowd’s scornful, hateful faces.
Still she stood, defiantly, unwilling to shed her dignity in her last, merciless breaths. Leona tried not to let her eyes close in pain or weariness, or let her knees buckle in sheer dread.
Mr. Bradley’s voice spoke loudly, carried over the wind. “Leona Winters, you have been accused of murdering Destin Slenger. Did you kill him?”
Leona knew it was pointless to ask, with her confession, but she didn’t care. Voice soft, strong, she said, “I did.”
Mr. Bradley faced her solemnly. “Then you shall hang.”
Leona’s heart beat wildly. The rope was placed unceremoniously around her neck, her feet pushed to rest above the rickety trap door. Her eyes became wild with fear again, her breath rapid, hands clenched into fists. She grit her teeth, this is it whispering through her head.
The trap door creaked with her weight, and she saw with a sinking heart, and a wrenched out breath, that Lewis would be the one to pull it free. She stared at him, his eyes wavering with emotion, one hand resting on the lever.
Her lips parted. The noose was heavy on her neck and shoulders, and she clenched her jaw to keep from screaming in fright. Too sick to watch, she frantically darted her eyes away from her old friend, feeling bile pump her stomach and tears slide down her filthy cheeks. Body stiff with her emotion, she closed her now trembling lips, and looked to the sky.
God, please.
Sniffling beyond control, eyes now wet beyond sight, she said her final prayers, her final goodbyes. The platform shuddered, and with a plummeting stomach and wrenched breath, she shut her eyes tight as- as-
She heard a woman scream.
Men were shouting, her ears were ringing- yet she felt no pain. Gasping, out of her mind with fright, she opened her eyes. She looked down. Her feet were still firmly on the wood floor. Momentarily flooded with relief, she gave a hysterical bark of laughter, knees going weak. Then she realized that the murmurs and shouts had not quieted.
She looked up through blurry, tear-stained eyes, and they went wide with shock. Her lips opened wordlessly, her heart beating freshly and rakishly. She didn’t dare believe her eyes- it didn’t make sense, nothing made sense- what-
“LEONA!”
Her prince. Riding furiously, eyes wild with fear, was the most handsome man she’d ever seen, bareback on a snow-white mare, nostrils blowing out silver clouds in the chill air. His wild brown hair flowed out behind him, face pink with rage and cold, hands gripping the hair of the horse so tight with hands so strong….
He was wearing a large fur cloak, draped around him like a toga, flapping in the wind as he rode to…her rescue?
Her eyebrows came together. Still in shock, she couldn’t quite believe that not only was she alive, but- but this man- he was calling out-
“Unhand her! Release her immediately!” In a deep, rich voice, thickened by a heavy accent.
Or was it- was it strange to think that it sounded as if he had almost forgotten how to speak?
As he neared, his words becoming clearer and clearer, she realized it was not an accent but a rough, strangled way of speaking, as if his mouth had difficulty sounding out the words. The horse skidded to a halt ten feet from the platform, at the edge of the crowd, and wordlessly, the people parted to let him through, encircling him again as he made his way forward, eyes intently set on her.
Her lips tried to move, but nothing came out, and then suddenly he was there, by her side. He quickly took the noose from her neck, hands grasping her arms to keep her from falling, her knees were so weak. He inspected her, eyes running over her frame, searching for damage. She stared into his earth-colored eyes, unable to move.
He truly was incredible. Full lips set sternly, fine brows drawn together in thought, strong neck-
Her hands shook. She gasped, and suddenly her eyes flew to the cape, and when she saw- saw the head, a shrill ringing sounded inside of her.
Mr. Bradley had just recovered behind her, and suddenly shouted out, “Who are you!”
The man’s eyes darted past Leona, to look at him, and then he set her free. Leona stumbled back a few steps, unable to move, heart and stomach pumping painfully. No, no, no, repeated over and over, and she held on, in shock, just to hear the words, praying it was just a trick, a cruel joke-
“I, Sir,” replied the man, current of anger and disgust clear in his tone, “am Prince of this very kingdom. And this,” he untied the arms of the cape, tossing it down at his feet, “is your beast.”
The crowd gasped and murmured anew, but Leona didn’t hear.
A whirling wind had shot through her mind, spilling forth angry, desperate tears, a strangled cry piercing the air from her constricted throat. Her knees gave way and she fell, hands falling into the rich waves of the beast’s fur. Her body shook with sobs, e
yes wide, mind numb. She stroked the soft fur, running her hands down the body, to the head, where in now gaping holes once glowed his eyes, his so familiar eyes. Her cries tumbled forth, and she twisted the fur around in her hands, trying desperately to feel a heartbeat, to somehow bring him back, to have his voice sound in her head and tell her- tell her-
“You murdered him!” she screamed, wretched shivers working through her body. Had she not been so weak she would have stood and strangled this man, this stranger that stood looking down upon her, shocked.
Instead she glared up with all of her hate and misery, glared with the full fury of the past hours, past days. He’d been speaking, and now, as she stared up, he stopped, mouth and Adam’s apple working up and down.
Leona closed her eyes tight in pain, and she collapsed on top of the fur, crying, so miserable. She had him. He’d come for her. He’d saved her- and now he was gone. She had no one, nothing-
“This beast has gone too far. For too long I let him run free in my castle, so feared was I by his strength. But no more! This- this woman, she has saved my life. In her kindness, she sought to save the beast, save that miserable creature, and you would have tormented her! Your real killer is dead. I command you release this woman into my care. I will deal with her as I see fit. I command!” he rang out, eyes glaring at all that would challenge him, and in a flourish he produced a paper, stamped at the bottom, and sealed, with the royal emblem.
Mr. Bradley took it in shaking hands, throat working rapidly, muscle in his jaw twitching. Then he looked up at the- Prince- and said stiffly, “Your Highness.” Then he bowed.
Leona couldn’t move. She was entirely empty, devoid of emotions. She had nothing. She didn’t care as she was lifted up and carried to a carriage, placed inside, the door slammed shut. Her eyes stared blankly at the wall in front of her.
They took her back to the castle, back to the palace courtyard. She barely registered where she was led as she stepped from the carriage, and then in a blind flash of shock, she realized it was the same cell that the beast had stood in, the same cell where her journey at this castle had all begun. They shut it wordlessly behind her, and she stood, open-mouthed, staring at the backs of the men as they retreated.
Slowly, so slowly, she sank to her knees. And it hit her. Her beast was gone. In her mind, all that remained was a forgotten corpse, lying in the damp snow on the platform, cold, alone. And her tears came. Hot, liquid tears, flowing through her soul and down to the frozen cement.
All her life, all she’d ever dreamed of, was her prince. Her gorgeous prince on his white horse, screaming her name. And now that moment had come and gone, and all she felt was a deep, burning loneliness. Her dreams were gone. She’d finally found love, and it was gone. She’d risked her life, tried to die to save him, and still it had been no use.
She wrapped her arms around herself and cried out, “Oh God! I loved him! He was everything!”
She recalled her selfish thoughts of the night before, of how unfair it had seemed to die, of how she would have given anything to see one last day. And now she had it. She was alive, to see the sun set, to have her babies, to live her life. And it meant nothing. Because it had come at a price she had never been willing to give, a price more dear to her than any damn sunset- his life. It barely registered that she would never again hear his voice, never again see his eyes shine as he whispered dear one into her soul.
How could he? How could that damn prince do it! That beast had been everything! The beast had protected him, shrouded him from all lies and reality, and now this! So what? So that a barmaid could live?
“You shouldn’t cry, dear Leona.”
Leona gasped and scooted away from the voice, glaring, pressing against the wall and into the shadows. “How could you do it?” she rasped. “He was everything!”
The prince stood before her, the shadow of the bars lining his face, staring at her with nothing in his eyes. Her eyes strayed down to his neck, and she felt vomit rise to her throat.
“Take,” she said between her teeth, “that off.”
The Prince, startled, reached up to touch the small rose, dangling from the gold chain about his neck. He quickly looked back at Leona. “Why did you do it, Leona? Why did you save the beast?”
Leona’s tears dried with her rage. “I loved him,” she said acidly. Then she looked away.
The Prince took a long time to respond, and then he said hoarsely, “How could you love a beast?”
Leona’s eyes softened in memory. “He was never a beast,” she whispered.
She heard the door open, and saw his shadow, standing above her. He knelt down, and his hand reached out to touch her face. She jerked away.
“Look at me!”
Startled by the fierceness in his voice, when his hands yanked her face, she responded. She stared into his eyes, her own wide. He was scowling at her, and at the same time….
She frowned. “Your eyes,” she whispered.
His own lit up, urged her to continue. “Yes,” he breathed.
She reached up with a trembling hand, and then caught herself. Her eyes flattened as she curled her hand into a fist, and dropped it into her lap. Her lips pursed. “I don’t know why you saved me, or how-” She took a breath, “how you could ever possibly have done…” her lips trembled, eyelashes wet with moisture, and she sniffed.
His hands slowly left her face, one thumb brushing at a tear before he retreated. He crouched still beside her, staring at her, and softly whispered, “I wanted nothing more, each day, every night, than to feel your soft skin, see my own in your eyes. To love you, so deeply, touch you…” his voice broke with emotion.
Leona stared at him, confused, and shook her head. “I never- how…” she took a breath and looked away, and then looked back at him. “I-” she swallowed. Her eyes narrowed and again she shook her head. “Then you should have realized that I loved the beast.”
His eyes darkened. “The beast,” he said sourly.
Leona’s eyes filled with indignant rage. “Yes, him! The one that saved me from the cold, saved my mother from starving to death, took me in his arms, wanted to fight away my fears! The beast, as you call him, that I would have died for, because he would have done the very same thing for me!”
The Prince’s eyes turned furious. “He never asked you to! Don’t you think, this beast, who you claim was consumed with such love, would have rather been tortured to a thousand deaths than worry, than to even think for one moment that you suffered, that you would die, alone, hanged- Leona!” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “I would have fought them for you! I would have died, it was my right! All I ever wanted was to save you, to see you happy! Can’t you understand! Why couldn’t you let me help you!”
Leona’s eyes had widened again, her mouth agape. “I- I didn’t-”
“Oh God, Leona,” he crushed her to him, wrapped his arms around her, holding tight. “I would never have forgiven myself if anything had happened. I told you once that I would bathe in your tears, if only to stop them coming- oh my dear one, I would have died gladly in that wretched beast’s body, if it would have saved your life!”
This time Leona jerked back. “What?” she whispered.
His hands wiped at her cheeks again, eyes searching. “I-”
“What did you say?” she demanded.
He shook his head. “You didn’t have to protect me, Leona. Can’t you see? When I woke to find out that you had left, that you had given yourself to save me, I went wild. I couldn’t think- all I knew was that if I had to spend my life, even a human life, without you…I would rather have died that night.”
Leona’s brow creased, her mouth open in question. She stared. Again she felt that pull, that strange familiarity in this man’s eyes, and this time…she widened her own. “That’s not possible,” she whispered.
He smiled brilliantly. “Oh God, how can you believe it isn’t? You fell in love with a beast, Leona! You sit here,
before me, because you loved…me.”
Leona’s eyes watered. “But how? I can’t- how can it be you?” Her hands reached up to grip his face. “You’re human,” she whispered.
He laughed, and suddenly he lifted her up, took her into his arms, face lit up with joy. So many questions popped into her head, doubt, worry, relief, anger-
“I love you,” he whispered. “I would have told you so many times, but always, all I saw, was my form reflected in your eyes. I couldn’t stand to see it- I couldn’t stand to know that you stood before me, always so close, yet never able to touch you…. That night, in the gardens, it hurt so bad to know that I couldn’t take you into my arms and tell you I didn’t care for her, for any other woman, explain it all-”
“Why?” Leona whispered. “What are you talking about?”
He smiled. “ ‘Noblest rose of true blood born, she alone will hear the curse, and with it lift him free.’ Remember?”
Leona nodded silently.
“I was cursed, Leona, for my selfishness. For my cruelty, shallowness. For my inability to see past the appearance, and into the soul. I was a beast, Leona, and…” he sighed. “An old sorceress, she decided, that like the beast I was at heart, so I should become. I spent so many years, hiding, at first locked in a cage by Mrs. Kingsley, so confused and alone. And then you came. You heard me. You saw me…set me free. That night- I think I did die. I stopped seeing, could only hear you, heard you whisper your confessions…and felt…ashamed. Humiliated. For trying so hard to be human, letting my selfishness overwhelm even you, my dear one, and…” he shook his head, eyes dark. “I would have died for you. And then you were gone. I don’t know what happened- but when I awoke, I was human, and…this was around my neck.” He motioned to the rose.
Leona’s mind was spinning. “That’s- the old woman- she said…” Leona gasped. She covered her mouth with her hand. Her destiny. Her dreams. Her beast. Her eyes looked back at this man, her beast, and then laughed. She laughed so hard and so loud, smiling, eyes shining. “You’re alive,” she whispered.
He was alive. He was human. She could spend every day and every night with him, could bear his children, hold him in her arms. His warm, soft body cradled her gently, his eyes speaking of love and promises and heated nights. Tears once more came to her eyes, and she started crying, holding him tight.
“Leona,” he whispered. “No, don’t cry.”
Leona shook her head against his neck. “I thought you were dead,” she whispered. “I wanted to die. I would have- and the prince- you-”
He shushed her with a kiss to her temple, and her breath sucked in, feeling such a tender gesture.
“I just can’t believe this is real,” she whispered.
He chuckled. “Neither can I, Leona. Oh God, you have no idea how long I kept waiting for you to fade, watching you, just to make sure you weren’t just some figment of my imagination. Perfect! How could such a perfect rose fall right into my lap?”
Leona shook her head wordlessly. She truly had nothing to say. How he made her feel so good…how he could see so much good in someone as simple as her… To have him. To be able to be with such an incredible man.
He put her back on her feet but held her close. “I’m a man again,” he whispered.
Leona’s throat went dry. She couldn’t quite find the right words to reply- right then, her entire being was centered on intense heat of his gaze.
His eyes locked with hers, and tension flared, his increased breathing as he pulled her closer. “Leona,” he whispered, and her eyelashes fluttered as he moved his lips to brush against the smoothness of her cheeks.
She shivered as he explored the feel of her skin, breathing in her scent, hands moving in wonder. Then, arms tightening in a crushing embrace, he murmured slightly, heatedly, and moved his lips to slightly brush against hers, testing the soft sensation as his hot breath mingled with her own. Leona groaned slightly and he responded immediately, lips ravaging hers with such a tender, passionate kiss that her knees were left weak, her heart scattering wildly.
My God her mind dragged free as she kissed him back forcefully and hungrily.
And that was how Mrs. Kingsley found them.
The old woman cleared her throat, and they separated, Leona hiding slightly within the comfort of the Prince’s arms. She looked back at Mrs. Kingsley with swollen lips, cheeks blazing, even more so when she saw the half-smile on her face.
“They’re waiting, Your Highness,” Mrs. Kingsley said softly.
With puzzled eyes Leona opened her mouth, but the Prince replied before she got her question out.
“The courtiers. I’ve sent for them all, to let them know I’ve finally taken the crown…and a bride.” He said the last tenderly, eyes sweeping over Leona, his hand cupping her face.
Leona’s smile shone brilliant. She had everything. Everything in the world. Her heart panged as she realized that her mother had not lived to see it, her marriage to the prince she….
And then Leona gasped. “My prince,” she whispered. He frowned, and Leona laughed suddenly. “My mother, in the cottage, she called you…my prince. I don’t know how she…”
He just shook his head. Leona understood. With all that was happening, had happened, what was one more unexplained mystery?
Leona sighed happily. She had her life. He was her life. He’d saved her, just as much as she’d saved him. They both needed each other, but now, thanks to fate and a small dash of luck…they could enjoy that need together forever.
THE END
Beast Page 10