Beast of Rosemead: A Retelling of Beauty and the Beast (Fairytales of Folkshore Book 4)

by Lucy Tempest

  Clancy let out a distressed bleat. “But why?”

  “I just told you. The curse specified love. And marriage, even if people choose one another like they do in small towns like mine, isn’t a guarantee of it.” I sought out Leander’s distraught eyes, feeling my heart squeeze. “You of all people should know that, considering your parents were arranged.”

  Leander’s shoulders sagged as he exchanged a despondent glance with Clancy, before they turned their entreaty on me. Their combined hopelessness was unbearable.

  According to their rationalization, all we had to do was—what? Find a priest who wouldn’t be spooked by them, and would agree to marry a foreign girl to a wolfman? Or a judge who wouldn’t immediately call the hunters and city guards? Though I’d never even thought of marriage until a week ago when first Castor asked me to marry him, I would marry Leander if I thought it was the answer. But it couldn’t be.

  The curse was very explicit. And then, how could I be the “true beauty” it specified?

  I let out a ragged exhalation. “Can I have some time to think?”

  Leander advanced on me, as if to block my path, but Clancy gripped his elbow, whispering something only his ears could catch.

  Leander turned and walked away, heading in the other direction, his somber voice filling the hall. “Take all the time you need.”

  Before following him, Clancy gave me a tentative glance. “We’ll see you at dinner?”

  Nodding, I headed back to the stairs, not taking my breath until I came to a wheezing stop outside Jessamine’s current room. I entered with a knock to find her sitting in bed, with a tome open on her lap and a plate of fruit next to her.

  Dropping her apple slice, Jessamine held out her arms. “I’m so happy you came back!”

  I’d half expected her to yell at me to get out, chuck her book at me, literally anything but the joy filling her owlish eyes and spreading her bright smile.

  I dove into her hug, careful to not disturb her bandaged wing, sniffling into her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for any of you to get hurt.”

  She squeezed me back before scooting over. “I know you didn’t. But what matters is that you’re back and we’re all alive. Maybe that battle will teach Castor not to come back here ever again.”

  I sat facing her, searching her tired, freckled face for any resentment, but I saw only pleasure to see me. “I tried to tell him who you were, but he wouldn’t listen. He didn’t listen to a single word until I said I agreed to marry him, and that was to get him away from here.”

  A sour expression curled the edges of her mouth. “That’s Castor for you, and all men like him. They only hear what they want to hear. Anything else is just winter wind to them.”

  “Is it true you were going to marry him?”

  She made a so-so gesture. “We hadn’t really come to an agreement, but he had offered and my brother agreed, which in our social standing is as good as an engagement, and because what other offers was I going to get?”

  “What do you mean? Why would you have trouble finding anyone else?”

  She sighed. “Because few here would risk inflicting my red hair on their daughters.”

  I frowned. “What’s wrong with red hair?”

  Her lips twisted. “Plenty in Arbore believe it’s a sign that you’re a witch, and no one wants a witch for a daughter-in-law. Also, our family didn’t leave us much, so I have no dowry as an incentive for any man to take me. There’s also my age. And now I’m half-bird…”

  “Clancy doesn’t seem to mind any of that.”

  Jessamine started, a blush bathing all visible skin in a rosy glow. “Lord Gestum is a…” She cleared her throat with difficulty. “…personable lord. He’s kind to everyone, regardless. He’s a very good man.”

  “That he is. And I don’t know how he acted so fast when you were shot down. He seemed to be able to fly in that moment, too.” I watched her grow more flustered and was unable to hold back a teasing grin. “He seemed very worried about you, took care of you and stayed with you while you slept.”

  Avoiding my eyes, she cleared her throat again, but her voice remained scratchy. “He would have done that for anyone, I’m sure.”

  “He didn’t rush to Leander’s aid, his old friend and host.”

  “I’m sure the Master didn’t need help?”

  “Even if he did, I think Clancy would have rushed to help you first. I think he likes you—the way you like him.”

  Jessamine shook her head furiously, face as flushed as the peach on her plate. “I just admire him, as he is very admirable. He was being chivalrous and I greatly appreciate him saving me, will have to find a way to repay him somehow.”

  “Maybe when your wing heals you can take him for a flight around the castle,” I suggested. “That might be a fun experience for both of you, maybe even an opportunity to discuss your feelings for one another.”

  “No!” she squeaked. “You misunderstand, I—he—it’s not like that, I promise. And then as I said, I can’t fly long distances by myself, I certainly can’t carry someone else along.”

  For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why she was so resistant to even discussing her feelings amongst us. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” And with that, she changed the subject. “How was your breakfast with the Master?”

  “It was fine. We talked a lot. He asked me to marry him.” Jessamine’s eyes doubled in size, but I stifled her squeal by adding, “I said no.”

  Her face fell as she lamented, “Why?”

  “Because I don’t think it’s going to do anything for the curse. There is no love between us, and then, who’s going to marry us, anyway.”

  She worried her lips for a moment then bent her head, looking forlorn.

  Feeling terrible myself, I remained silent for long minutes, and she started flipping aimlessly through the pages of her book. I suddenly stopped her, took the book and gazed at two scenes.

  One was of a frail, gaunt young man writing in the sand before a girl with long wavy hair, and a bearded man that was attempting to pull her away. The second depicted the young man upright and robust, floating a few inches off the ground, and covered in shading that was either wind or a glow, in royal garb and with a handsome face.

  There was a caption squished at the bottom of the last picture. Only when the princess called him by his true name did his power return to him.

  I rushed to read the text of the story.

  A Prince of Lyonesse was cursed by his stepmother to lose his name and all that came with it—his title, his magic and his appearance. Only someone recognizing him for who he truly was would break the curse. That wasn’t possible since he couldn’t tell anyone who he was. He was about to die when he wrote his name in the sand in front of the Princess of Cantor. He could only write it backwards, but she figured it out, said it aloud while looking directly at him, and the curse broke.

  I traced the picture of the triumphant prince for another moment. Then I jumped off the bed and burst out of the room, calling over my shoulder, “I’ll be right back.”

  I raced back downstairs in search of Leander.

  I found him and Clancy sitting in a room that overlooked the rose tree.

  Buzzed with determination and excitement, I barreled inside. They jumped to their feet, expectant, anxious.

  Leander hobbled towards me, searching my face with wide, dilated eyes. “Yes?”

  Taking a deep breath, I looked directly at him and said, “I love you, Leander Silverthorn.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  No one moved. No one blinked.

  We just stood there with bated breath, waiting for something to happen, anything.

  But nothing happened.

  No flash of transformative light, no fairy queen arriving to lift her curse. Nothing.

  Leander’s face fell as he turned to Clancy. “I don’t understand. She ‘gave me her love.’ Why didn’t it work?”

  Tracing his horns sadly, Cl
ancy looked down at the tree. “Vows, declarations, none of that matter to the fey. Not unless they’re meant.” He dropped his hands, closing his eyes in disappointment. “And she didn’t mean what she said.”

  Leander let out an anguished rumble that made me shudder and struck his chair, gouging long, deep scratches in its back. “What does that matter? She said my name, said she loved me.”

  “Leo, let’s be reasonable here. There’s a reason I didn’t want you to suggest marriage this soon.”

  I blinked up at Clancy. “What do you mean? What are you still not telling me?”

  Clancy winced, and Leander hunched defensively, yet seeming ashamed, too.

  Setting my hands on my hips, I tapped my foot at them. “Well?”

  Clancy exhaled. “We hoped a girl would end up here as a ‘sacrifice,’ and that she would remain among us long enough to get to know Leander and break the curse.”

  I threw my hands up. “I’m here and I’m trying!”

  “Yes, but you haven’t been here long enough,” Leander mumbled. “Clancy wanted us to wait days, weeks even, with things steadily improving between us, before I asked you. But now I no longer have time to waste.”

  I glanced at Clancy. “So, you wanted me to grow fond of him first?”

  Clancy nodded. “Or, if it were possible, truly love him. But it’s safe to say nothing has gone according to plan.”

  “You can say that again.” I ran my hands over my face, going through the situation once again. “Wait, you said you were expecting a girl to be sacrificed. How and why?”

  “It was the next logical offering,” said Leander, back to avoiding my eyes. “The people of Rosemead first started circulating the tale of the King of the Beasts every time they heard me roaring in frustration or sighted me when I still went out hunting. But with the whispers of me eating everyone in the castle spreading, they started offering me cuts of meat then parts of animals, then entire ones, each animal bigger than the last. We reasoned a girl had to be next, like they used to send virgins to dragons and ogres to keep them from attacking their villages. But most of the time, the girl had to go willingly.”

  I stopped nodding along, gaped up at him as a realization burst in my mind.

  “That faceless green bandit!” I stomped, fists stiff at my side as anger wormed through me. “That’s why they took my father! That Robin in the hood knew I would come after him!”

  “We’ll have to thank him for that,” Leander grumbled. “Quite clever, really. It’s a wonder they sent him back from the frontline so early. If they’d used his talents as a tactician, he could have won them the war already.”

  If I had anything within reach, I would have pitched it at him. “This isn’t funny!”

  “Am I laughing right now?” Leander snapped, baring his fangs. “We both got our lives flipped upside down for nothing. But at least yours isn’t irreversibly ruined. You can always go back. There’s no going back for any of us.”

  Contrite again, I approached him, set a tentative hand on his wide, curved back. “I’m not going nowhere. I’ll do whatever I can to help you all as I promised.”

  “And it wasn’t for nothing, Leo,” Clancy assured him. “It’s just early. We should simply wait a while.”

  Leander grimaced. “How long is a while? The tree has three roses left.”

  “Then hopefully in a season we’ll all feel and look a lot different than we do now.” Clancy’s big blue eyes sought mine. “Isn’t that right, Miss Fairborn?”

  I nodded warily. “I sure hope so, but how does waiting help us?”

  Leander turned to me, hairy, distorted features almost too much to bear, but his blue-green eyes mirrored my own uncertainty. “It will give me time to make things up to you, change your mind about me, so when we try again, you can mean it in any sense.”

  “What other ‘senses’ are there?”

  “If simple words won’t do it and marriage vows are null, then that leaves us one option.” He held out his broad, clawed hand, palm up. “Miss Fairborn, would you like to be my friend?”

  That was an even harder request than asking me to marry him. Friendship required genuine affection and good companionship that most marriages didn’t.

  But—now that I knew Robin had manipulated us all to bring me here, and after the rocky start we’d had, we’d spent most of the morning together without incident. Even better, we’d had conversations I couldn’t have with my father, whom I loved unconditionally, or with Adelaide, who was my best friend.

  Surely friendship wasn’t unthinkable between us? And then I’d already pledged to do whatever I could to save them. Becoming his friend, as unlikely as that might sound, was the least I could try.

  I forced a smile on my face as I set my hand in his grasp. “I would like that very much, Leander Silverthorn.”

  As both men’s eyes filled with wary hope, I felt the weight of all their fates press harder on my shoulders.

  Here went nothing.

  Early next morning, Hazel came to get me ready for breakfast.

  She laid out a periwinkle, lace gown that she said matched my eyes, and as she braided my hair, she babbled excitedly about what the head chef was making for dinner.

  “We can no longer import anything from the market, but the vegetable patch we have is on very fertile soil. We still have to wait till autumn to get the good vegetables.” She pulled too hard on a lock of hair, making me yelp. Oblivious to my reaction, she prattled on, “I never thought I’d be looking forward to seeing turnips and carrots, but here we are. It’s a relief for my mum, though. She always tried to get me to eat my vegetables, but the only thing I tolerated was potatoes. Perks of being a bunny, I guess.”

  I rubbed the sore spot in my scalp. “Your mother’s here?”

  “She is the head chef! If you ever need an adjustment to the menu or to request a specific dish, ask for Bryony.”

  “What does she—er, look like?”

  Hazel pointed at her ears with the hairbrush. “Same as me, but her feet are big and flat now, she has to hop everywhere. It’s kind of funny.”

  Somehow I doubted her mother found her legs being warped to the extent she couldn’t walk funny. It amplified my sadness for them all. I’d really hoped that telling Leander I loved him would break that curse and set them free.

  But how could I make myself mean it?

  How long would it take for that to happen? For me to love him as I loved Adelaide, as a friend or a brother even? And if I did, would it count? Would that be enough for the wicked fairy that cursed a newborn and a toddler for their mother’s arrogance?

  And another such evil fairy had kidnapped Adelaide, and I had no way of knowing where she’d taken her. Even if I did, there was no way to go after her, to save her.

  Eyes welling with frustrated tears again, I blinked them back as I caught Hazel’s concerned eyes in the mirror. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, no! You did great!” I jumped off the chair before she could think of adjusting the hairstyle again and ran to the door.

  I kicked something on my way out, yet another box, too small for me to have tripped over. I picked it up, not bothering to look inside in my rush to check on Jessamine.

  I stuck my head into her room, found her already with a tray on her lap. “Good morning, Jess! How’s your wing feeling today?”

  Eyes bright with pleasure at my sight, Jessamine spoke around her mouthful. “Still can’t move it without hurting, but a lot better.” She raised her teacup. “I asked for your willow brew thrice as strong, and it is really helping.”

  “Glad to hear it! I’ll try to remember any other pain-killing remedies I’ve read about.”

  She swallowed and smiled. “See you after breakfast?”

  “See you then!” I ducked out and headed down, straight to the dining room.

  As I approached, I remembered the little box in my hand.

  Inside wasn’t another luxurious gift but a metal barrette with a glued-on, blue flower. I
couldn’t tell what kind of fabric it was made of, but it was soft and fashioned in a way that made it gleam and almost look like a living flower.

  A note with Leander’s shaky handwriting asked: Is this a bonnibel?

  It looked like he’d given my words some good thought since yesterday. This wasn’t a needlessly expensive gift. And it was personal.

  Checking around for Hazel, hoping she wouldn’t see me undoing her efforts, I unbound my braid then pulled some hair back with the barrette.

  In the dining room, Leander and Clancy stood as soon as I entered. I didn’t know if I should bow or curtsey, wasn’t sure how people behaved in places like this beyond the passing references in stories about court and mansion life.

  They were surprised when I sat across from Clancy, on Leander’s right.

  “What? I could barely hear you yesterday,” I said, reaching for the basket of fresh rolls. They were warm and fluffy, and pulling one apart released a puff of aromatic steam. “It seems pointless for the three of us to sit in this endless room alone. Can’t we eat in a smaller room or gather in one of our rooms?”

  They took turns giving me odd, uncertain looks.

  “That’s how it always is for us,” said Leander, gazing down at his piled plate, full of meats, eggs, beans and bread, still struggling with his utensils. “Everyone has their place at the table, and only the sick eat in their rooms. We only take tea in sitting rooms.”

  I bit into the roll. “All I’m saying is it just feels very impersonal.”

  “The head of the table is an honorable spot, and offering it is a show of esteem,” Leander said, still dragging his knife around his plate. “That was the intention, but if you prefer to sit here, you’re free to do so.”

  Nodding, I reached for the butter across the table, and Clancy held it out for me. “Did you check on Jessamine this morning?”

  Clancy almost dropped the butter, fumbled with it before I caught it. “Yes, but she was asleep, so I couldn’t ask about her condition.”

  “She says her wound hurts less.” I tried catching his eye. “She might feel a lot better if you visited her later.”