The Beast Queen

by Felicity Partington

  “I would save you.” She snapped at Peter, “you have committed the same crime he did. You’ve both tried to help me. I can’t just leave him.”

  “Don’t let your guilt rule over reason Izz-”

  “I can show you a secret way down the mountain,” Thomas interrupted desperately. “If we follow the roads then they’ll find us in no time. There’s no protection, and the master, he’s impossibly fast. But I know other ways. I’ll take you. Just please let me out.

  “I’m not going without him.” Isabelle folded her arms, and after a long beat, Peter conceded.

  “You’d really risk your life just for a few pointless answers about the damned monster who locked you in a dungeon to rot? Fine.” He stepped forward and pulled at the lock on the outside of the grate. “This thing is rusted to hell.” He finally said with a huff.

  “The one inside-”

  “We are absolutely not going inside. It’s the grate or nothing.” Peter warned.

  “Fine.” Isabelle snapped,

  “Look around and see if you can find something heavy.” The pair began scanning the perimeter for anything they could use to break open the lock. “Never mind, I found something.” Peter pulled up a hammer which was hanging on the outside of another building. It was rusted, and it wasn’t clear how much impact it was going to take before flaking apart. “This is going to be loud. If there is anybody left in this Lord forsaken hole, they’re going to hear it and come running. Once it’s broken, you need to get out and we’re going to run. If you can’t keep up, you can’t come.”

  “Peter-” Isabelle started, but Peter was all out of patience.

  “I mean it, Isabelle. Or I’ll leave you too. I’m not prepared to die here. Not even for you.”

  “Fine.” The brunette snapped. “Just hurry up.”

  Peter heaved, and the hammer hit the lock with an almighty clang. It smashed to pieces, sending rusted shrapnel flying. Another blow and one of the hinges holding the trapdoor shut shattered too. Thomas gave an almighty shove and the stubborn trapdoor shifted the tiniest amount. Peter dropped the hammer and together they prised it open enough so that Thomas could crawl through.

  Isabelle gripped his hands and helped him climb out. He had lost a lot of weight since she had last seen him, he looked emaciated and sickly. She couldn’t help but wonder whether she mirrored him. They set off at a run to the edge of town.

  “You only have two horses?” Thomas asked disappointed.

  “I thought we were only taking one?” Belle asked, ignoring Thomas entirely. Peter’s face was thunderous enough at having to explain the situation once, let alone twice. His fists clenched.

  “I thought two would be best in case we had to split up. But since I wasn’t expecting a third, I didn’t prepare.” With Peter’s temper frayed and with Isabelle’s increasing uneasiness about leaving, the tension was palpable. She would never be able to return here and there were so many unanswered questions.

  She would never see Erik again.

  They climbed onto their horses. Thomas took the reins and began guiding them to the edge of the forest. He was telling the truth at least; they didn’t use the main road. Further back there was a much steeper track which led downwards. They never would have thought to look back here.

  “This better not be a trap,” Peter muttered under his breath.

  “You think I want to stay here?” The former gardener argued. Isabelle had never heard Thomas raise his voice before, but she was too absorbed in her own thoughts to pay their bickering much attention.

  “We’ve freed you. So, it’s time to tell me everything you know about your master and his family.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “It’s been a very long time, and you have to remember that there are things my parents haven’t even told me. But I will try. What do you want to know?”

  “Who is he? Why is a he a beast? Why are you all trapped here?” The questions tumbled from her lips before she could stop them. Thomas took a long breath.

  “Erik’s mother was Queen Asta, I don’t expect your history talks of her much. She was a remarkable woman. Her reign was a quiet one, nothing of note, she ascended the throne after both of her brothers, Audun and Halvor died,. They were Nordic Kings, barbaric and cruel, but with no heir the people had no choice but to follow Asta. And she did well enough, certainly better than anybody expected. You must understand that even for a Nord, Queen Asta was an unbridled young woman, a daughter of the Kings of the North. But the world was changing, barbarians and strength were falling foul to politics and gentry. People didn’t want wars, they wanted prosperity, riches, they wanted leaders who set the bar in culture. So, her advisors pushed her into a marriage which they thought would help to evolve the Nords. They wanted to bring them more in line with the rest of the modern world. She didn’t protest, not even when they brought to her one of the French King’s bastards. Why would she? She fell in love almost instantly. He was beautiful, arrogant, rich.”

  “Mahieu,” Isabelle interjected solemnly. It was strange, she’d never seen Thomas speak so openly. It was like he was a different person, he met her eyes, his back was straight. He’d been drowning in secrets.

  “You know more than I credited,” Thomas observed, and Isabelle hid a flush of pride.

  “I found his journal in your father’s office.” She admitted.

  “Though low-born, Mahieu had remarkable finesse and confidence. The French King lavished gifts upon the couple, favours, they gave the Nords French lands to secure their alliance. Mahieu’s ambitions knew no limits.

  They had hoped that once married, he would control Asta, but they had severely underestimated her. After the wedding, things turned sour. She refused to crown him, kept him from meetings with her nobles, as hard as he pushed to be involved, she pushed harder. She would not accept being ruled by her husband, this was her Kingdom and she was determined to keep it. As far as she was concerned, she was Queen and would brook no master.”

  “I don’t blame her.”

  “No. But Mahieu did. They raged and fought for years, he would take mistresses, spend money behind her back. He nearly ruined them time and time again. He gambled, drank, brawled. His hatred of her turned him bitter, and the more bitter he got, the tighter she would bind him. Then the war broke out. Mahieu rode out, she put him in charge of an army –an army tasked with the defeat of his own father. When he returned, victorious, things got better for the couple. It seemed like they had finally accepted each other. He returned a warrior, and she respected that. It wasn’t long before they conceived a child.”

  “Erik?”

  “No. Princess Kari. She was born, and she lit up the entire castle, they lavished attention upon her, adored her. She changed everything, this bright little ball of sunshine. Erik came next, and he was spoiled just as grandly, they were lovely children. I just about remember Erik being born, I remember my mother clucking over him, I remember him learning to walk. I was only a child myself, a few years older than him, a few months older than the princess. It seemed impossibly grand. This tiny boy would one day be my King. I would take over from my father, he, his mother. I would be his right-hand, his best friend, confidant.”

  “What happened?”

  “The world was changing, very quickly, every single day. Queen Asta was terrified that her children would be weak. A great Queen she may have been, but she did not adapt well to change. She despised politics and diplomacy. Everything she had been taught about Kings and Queens came from her own parents, strength mattered more than all else. She brought in champions to train and teach her heirs, battle tactics, the art of war. But they weren’t Nordic children, they’d been raised here in the height of luxury. They were spoiled and proud. They didn’t listen like warriors. There was an accident during a training exercise, Princess Kari was injured. Terribly injured.”

  “Oh...”

  “They sent for help far and wide, but it seemed there was nothing they could do. The Princess was dyi
ng. Then one night, a strange woman showed up on the doorstep and offered to heal her. I don’t think they truly believed it was possible. So, they made a deal, and it worked, to everybody’s surprise. Princess Kari was healed as if it had never happened.”

  “And the price? For her life?”

  “Another life. The witch told them that she could not grant a life without taking one, so they had until Princess Kari’s eighteenth birthday to find a sacrifice, a girl of equal age, to die in her place. To make sure they upheld the bargain, she placed a curse on their youngest child and heir to the entire Kingdom.”

  “She turned Erik into a beast.” Isabelle finished, face dark.

  “She did. His curse was to be lifted once the price had been filled.”

  “But nobody can age, how could they lift it?”

  “Prince Erik was the only one who was cursed originally. They turned a seven-year-old boy into a monster. He was smaller than he is now, barely a pup. He would have some years of awkwardness, but once the debt was settled, he would be human, and they would have their two children alive and well.

  What they had not accounted for, was how traumatising it was for Erik and how dominant the new beastly side to him was.” Thomas paused, swallowing thickly and Isabelle wondered how hard it was to recount these memories. To her this was history, pieces of a jigsaw she had been desperately trying to finish. This was Thomas’ life, centuries with the Beast. “At first, they let him move amongst us, freely, they treated him as they always had. But he aged too, even as a beast. For the first years he was difficult, angry, but malleable. We played together, as we grew. I don’t think anybody expected…” Thomas paused; his head dropped.

  “Expected what?”

  “I turned from a boy to a man. He turned from a boy into a beast. His temper, that of a spoiled boy, it escalated beyond anything we could have imagined. He started getting violent and he was so big, nobody could control him. Finally, we had no choice, he was imprisoned in his bedroom. We brought food and slid it under the door, talked to him through the wood. But it seemed as if slowly, Erik was vanishing, leaving only a monster in his place. Nobody knew what to do, other than wait it out. Kari would turn eighteen, they would find a sacrifice – any number of the girls from the city would die for their Princess. Erik would turn human once more.” Thomas looked at her gravely, Isabelle realised that her mouth was hanging open and she closed it quickly.

  “They just asked somebody to die so that their daughter might live? Who would agree to that?”

  “You’d be surprised. They had everything to offer, infamy, a place in history, fortune for the family they would leave behind.” Thomas shrugged. “As Erik got bigger and more volatile, the castle locked its gates and nobody but the servants were allowed in. It didn’t seem impossible to keep him locked up for such a short time.” Thomas looked grave. But he continued. “We were all fools, we tried to be kind, keeping him in his bedroom, his parents didn’t want to put their little boy in the dungeon. But he wasn’t a little boy anymore.”

  “The dungeon wouldn’t have held him; I’ve seen that place.” Isabelle sighed sadly, angry at Erik’s parents. All of this could have been avoided if they’d been sensible and not let sentiment get in the way.

  “One night whilst his parents were away.” He paused. “Prince Erik, he got out through the balcony, he tore through the forest, then the city, enraged. He killed a lot of people. Princess Kari went to try and bring him back, to talk him down-” Thomas stopped, and Isabelle realised that she had been holding her breath.

  “I don’t think I want to hear-”

  “He killed her.” Thomas didn’t give her the option. “In a blind rage, tore her apart. Nobody dared interfere, they locked themselves in their houses and prayed for a miracle. The city watched its future King rip their beloved princess apart, watched and not one of us dared step in. His humanity returned to him slowly, the horror of what he had done sobered him, but it was too late.”

  “Too late?”

  “When Princess Kari died, the curse changed. Time stopped for everybody, it just froze. We stopped ageing. We stopped dying. The seasons didn’t change. We were stuck here, like this, in eternal winter.”

  “But people do die, I’ve seen the obituaries, the people Erik killed.”

  “The only way we can die and be delivered from the curse is by the master’s own hands. The witch created for him the perfect prison, if he couldn’t control his temper, then he would end up entirely alone. He vanished, into the forest. Nobody saw him for over a century, nobody looked for him, we were all coming to terms with our own curse. Immortality seems like a blessing until it’s forced upon you. I was engaged, planning for a summer wedding which never came. No crops grew, no flowers, our fields remained barren.”

  “What happened to Queen Asta and King Mahieu?”

  “I don’t know, they never returned. We didn’t see them again. We didn’t see anybody. Nobody came. Nobody went. When the master came back, he was feral, but after a hundred years it seemed stupid to hold him accountable. He had his own guilt. We had ours. So, we let it go, we treated him like we were raised to; as our King. He worked with us, and though he kept himself to himself, there was a mutual understanding. We were all cursed, we thought hope gone. And then you arrived…”

  “How did you know? About the curse? About me?”

  “I didn’t know for sure. That first day, after you came, after we talked, I went to talk to my father. You weren’t supposed to be…the Master knew from the moment you arrived. I tried to make sense of it, I didn’t really dare hope, but there, sure as the nose on my face, was a rose in the snow. Blooming as brightly as it would at the height of summer. Those roses hadn’t bloomed since before the curse. I didn’t want it to be true, you seemed so nice, I hid the rose-”

  “You hid it in the book, in the library,” Isabelle remembered the beautiful flower pressed between the pages; Thomas nodded.

  “But another followed, and another, it wasn’t long before everybody understood; we’d tried to keep it quiet but there was no denying it. You could break the curse. You could free us.”

  “I’m not really a witch you know,” Isabelle whispered, entirely overwhelmed by everything he had told her. She was surprised when he smiled.

  “I know.”

  “So how exactly do you expect me to break the curse?” She asked, a leaden weight in her stomach. It was a question she didn’t want the answer to. Thomas didn’t answer with words, but the amount of regret in his eyes when they met hers fulfilled her worst fears.

  Him stopping had bothered Peter, and the other man had jumped off his horse and advanced on the chattering pair.

  “This is a very nice story and all-” Peter started, but Isabelle wasn’t listening to him,

  “I’m the price. I’m the life. You’re going to kill me to break the curse.” Isabelle’s voice sounded very small in the dark forest,

  “I’m sorry.” Thomas sounded it.

  “All these months, all this time, all this misery…and you were just going to kill me.” She had felt so guilty over how she had treated everybody, so ashamed of how much she focused on Erik, and all along they’d been plotting her sacrifice.

  “I’m not going to let that happen!” Peter had a sword pressed against Thomas’ throat and backed him up against a near tree. The man swallowed, adams apple bouncing against the steel blade.

  “Where did you get a sword?” The spell was broken, and Isabelle jumped down from her own horse.

  “Is now really the time?” Peter hissed through a clenched jaw. “Do you want to die? Or do you want him to live up to his promise and get us the hell out of here?”

  “I don’t want Isabelle to die either. I just wanted to get out. I’ve been trapped in that cell since I kissed her. I betrayed them; I told them it wasn’t fair, that they couldn’t just murder somebody. They didn’t even hesitate, they just locked me away. My parents, my fiancée. I just want to leave. I want to live. Somewhere else,
away from them all. Curse or no curse, I can’t stay here,” he paused, pushing back emotions which made it hard to form words “I just want a chance at freedom.”

  “When? When must I die?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “On Kari’s birthday? But it’s been centuries. And she’s not even alive anymore.”

  “No Isabelle.” Thomas’ voice was barely audible, “not her birthday, on yours. Your birthday. Time froze for us, remember? For us, tomorrow is eighteen years from the day she was born. Just like you. Time has been creeping along to catch up to you.”

  Isabelle fell back, her horse was the only thing which stopped her stumbling over entirely. The crushing horror of the situation threatened to suffocate her.

  “If you die then the curse is lifted, the price is paid, the Master will be human again and we’ll be able to live instead of exist.”

  “Isabelle.” Peter moved to comfort her, but Thomas took advantage of his distraction and pushed against the blade. Peter stumbled backwards and landed in the dirt.

  “I’m sorry Isabelle, I’m sorry for all of it,” Thomas said desperately, before taking off at a sprint into the dark forest. Peter seemed torn for a second, between giving chase or staying with Isabelle. When he looked at her, she held his gaze and he softened, rushing towards her. She was trembling violently. He wrapped his arms around her and she crumpled against him for a long moment before tensing. She was composing herself, when she stood, his arms fell away from her without resistance.

  “All that time, they pretended.” Her composure threatened to leave her. “They lied to me. The whole time. I-” she couldn’t stop the betrayal pulling at her, the thoughts rushing through her head, no matter how angry she was at them, of her own emotions. Was this what Charlotte had tried to tell her last night? “I love him.” She screamed. “I love him, and he was just going to kill me, without a word.”