Beast (13 page)

To the right of the castle was a barn that the Invisibles had prepared for the horse.

We used to keep our horses in that barn. We had five beautiful horses. My favorite horse was named Rêveur, which
meant “dreamer.” She was a tan palomino with a blonde mane and tail. Rêveur was the first horse I ever rode. Mother put me on her by myself when I was two. By the time my fifth birthday came, I was riding her by myself, with a little help from the stable maid to saddle her up.

After the change, however, Rêveur wanted nothing to do with me. A few summers after I became cursed, all the other horses ran away, including Rêveur. I do not know what happened to them after that.

The old man walked his horse into the barn. Hay had been placed in one of the stalls for the horse to eat. A few minutes later, the man came out of the barn and slowly walked up the steps to the big wooden doors.

It looked as if the brass doorknob and the old man were having a staring contest. He picked up his hand and slowly moved it toward the knob. Right when his fingers were about to touch it, he second-guessed himself and pulled away. As fast as he yanked his hand away, the doorknob turned for him.

The big wooden doors creaked as they opened. Before he took a step into the castle, he looked back at the storm, taking a deep breath; then he proceeded forward. I ran from the study to the top of the stairs to get a better look.

Luckily, no matter my weight, my feet never made a sound when I walked. It was strange, but I was thankful for it now because I could walk around the castle without the visitor knowing that I was there. Plus, it was so dark that human eyes would not be able to see more than a few feet ahead of them, but my new eyes allowed me to see as if it were daytime.

“Hello? Is anyone here?” the old man yelled.

His voice was weary. He continued to walk through the doorway, toward the hall.

“M-my name is Reynard—Reynard Delacroix,” he said into the air.

“Lead him to the dining room,” I whispered to the Invisibles.

Once he was inside the castle, to the left of him was a desk with a candle the
Invisibles had lit for him. He grabbed it before starting down the hallway with the paintings.

I followed slowly behind to observe. It had been such a long time since I had seen or heard another human being.

As he walked down the hallway, he studied the paintings carefully.

“You have a beautiful home,” he said into the air.

When he was at the last panting, the painting from my fifth birthday, he stared at it for some time. Then he moved his hand to the painting and followed the brushstrokes of the painter.

It looked as though he were thinking a lot about the boy in it. Times like these made me wish that I could read minds; I wanted to know what he was thinking about. I wished that ability had happened along with the transformation.

After he finished studying the painting, the old man saw the light in the room to the left of him, which was the dining room. The fire was lit, and warm food was waiting for him on the table; the roses were in the center of the table.

“Is this all for me?” he asked the air.

He made his way to the table to look at the food.

Standing at the head of the table, where Papa had always sat, he took in a deep breath and slowly sat down. After settling into the chair, he moved the plate and silverware close to him.

The silverware hit the plate and made a
tink
sound. His plate was filled with rabbit, mashed potatoes, mutton with onions, and warm bread. The way he reacted when he began to eat made it seem as though he had not eaten in days, if not weeks.

After he finished the meal, he walked over to the couch in front of the fire to change into the clean clothes laid out for him to wear.

When he lay down, he placed the blankets carefully over himself to keep warm during the night. It had been a treacherous day for him, which could be seen on his face.

“This place is so nice and lovely. I wonder who lived, or lives, here,” I overheard him say.

Not long after he said this, he fell asleep.

I sat by the window in the dining room, watching the rain outside. The Invisibles began to clean up the food and then took the old man’s clothes to dry them for the morning.

After some time had passed, I decided to leave the old man to sleep; I had forgotten how nice it was to hear and see someone else.

As the storm cleared, I walked up to the roof and sat down. I enjoyed my times on the roof because I would gaze up at the stars, which reminded me that there was more to this life than this curse that had fallen upon me.

When I looked up at the constellations, the Rose House came into my mind’s eye. Like the last few times, I was inside of the house.

It was a cool fall night. Sitting at the table near the kitchen was the woman with red hair. The one named Evaline was in the kitchen, washing dishes. Both still had blurry faces. And there by the fire, with a book in her hands, was the one whom my heart loved.

Her hair was pulled back on top of her head, tied with a turquoise ribbon. Even with her hair up, its length was past her shoulders. She was enveloped in a purple-and-green blanket. The book she was reading seemed to have all of her attention.

“Evaline, do you think Papa has heard anything about Lanelin? I miss him so,” the woman with the red hair said.

“I am very hopeful that he was on the boat that returned. I miss my brother. How are you holding up, Nadine?” Evaline asked.

“I am trying to have faith that he will be coming home with Papa. I am thankful beyond words that your family has become my family. I do not know what I would do if it were not for you, your father, and your sister,” Nadine explained with weary eyes.

“Do you know when Papa should be expected?” the one my heart loved chimed in.

Apparently Evaline was off guard that she had been listening to their conversation, because Evaline did a double-take at the beautiful young lady.

“I do not know; soon, I hope. He has been gone for too long,” Evaline said softly after a few seconds.

The vision left me as quickly as it had come.

I continued to sit until the sun started to rise. Then I made my way back down into the castle to check on my guest.

Not long after I was in the dining room, the old man awoke. The Invisibles had made breakfast for him and put his dry clothes on the chair next to him. He stood up, changed, and made his way to the table to eat.

“This meal looks delicious, thank you!” he said into the air. “Those roses are wonderful. Their scent is sweeter than any roses I have ever smelled, and they are so much more vibrant in color than I have ever seen! How did you grow them to be so lovely?”

He took another deep breath, taking in their aroma.

“Mirabelle would love these!” he said under his breath.

Who is Mirabelle?
I thought.

After he finished his meal, he looked at the roses as if he were contemplating something. Suddenly he grabbed one of my roses and then made his way toward the hallway, where I was standing. At first I thought that he wanted to get a better look or smell it more closely. But, no, he was taking it with him!

How could he take a rose from me? I cannot believe he is stealing from me! My mother gave me those roses, and they are the last memory I have of her!
I angrily thought.

Once he stepped into the hallway, I placed myself in front of him, blocking his way into the foyer.

“Why do you disrespect me?” I roared. “After I gave you warm meals and a shelter from the storm, this is how you repay me? By stealing my roses?”

“Wh-who are you?” the old man asked.

I took a few steps forward into the light.

As soon as he saw me, with my wolflike appearance, razor-sharp teeth, seven-foot frame, and glowing yellow eyes, he began to shake with fear. His eyes widened, and sweat droplets appeared upon his brow.

“I am so sorry, my master! I did not think that taking one simple rose would be an issue. Please, my lord! My daughter loves roses. She did not ask for anything when I returned, but I saw these and thought that she would love one. Please have mercy on me; it has been a horrific few years!”

He proceeded to tell me the story of what he and his family had been going through.

“My family and I have lived off the coast of France, in the small city of Nerville, for as long as I can remember. I used to be a wealthy businessman; I owned a shipping company, trading with different countries.

“When I was twenty, I married the love of my life. We were blessed with a son and two daughters. When my youngest daughter, Mirabelle, was four, my wife became ill. We did everything we could to try to save her. On Mirabelle’s fifth birthday, my wife passed away.

“Two years ago, our ships were sent out, like any other year. A few months went by, and we were hit by a huge storm. None of our ships returned; my son was on one of them.

“My business went under, so we had to sell everything we owned! Our fine linen, our china, my wife’s paintings—anything that we could use to pay back those who had invested in the company. We even had to sell our house.

“Luckily, my son’s wife had an uncle who lived in a small town not far from here with a house where no one had lived for a long time, and he said that we could have it. We made a three-month journey to the town of my daughter-in-law’s uncle, Eglantina. We had to journey through the Dark Forest, the forest that surrounds this castle.

“Several months after trying to become adjusted to living in this new small town of Eglantina, we received a letter from one of my old business partners; he said that one of my ships had returned.

“So, with one of our ships finally home, I left my girls to go back to the city of Nerville to finish working out the details of my company. I did not find out which ship it was until I was finally in town. Unfortunately, it was not the ship my son was on. I do not know if I will ever see him again!

“As I left our new home, each of my girls asked for one thing for me to bring home, except for Mirabelle. One wanted fabric to make clothes, and another wanted flour to use for baking, while Mirabelle wanted me to just come home safe. But she has a love for roses, and these roses have a more intoxicating scent and vibrant red color than I have ever smelled or witnessed in my entire life.”

The old man got down onto his knees, pleading for my forgiveness. I noticed that from the moment he had laid eyes on me until now, his hair had changed from brown with a little grey to completely grey. Along with this, the wrinkles on his face had grown deeper.

“I was trying to find my way home when this horrid storm hit,” he continued. “And I happened to stumble upon your lovely castle. Please have mercy on my old soul. My daughters need me! All I wanted was to give my youngest something that I know would make her happy. She always thinks of others before herself. Please, Beast, I beg of you. Please let me live. I am sorry that I ever took the rose!”

I started to have pity on the man. I knew what it was like to lose everything that you held dear in life in the blink of an eye.

Those roses were extremely important to me, but they were also enchanted, which was why they were different from other roses he had seen.

His family needed him, but he had a daughter who loved roses as much as I did. I had an idea.

“I will let you go—but under one condition,” I explained to him.

“Yes, my lord? Anything,” the old man said quietly.

“You or your daughter, Mirabelle, must come back in a week! If you do not, I will come find you and bring you here myself!”

The old man looked down at the ground, at the rose, and then at me. Afterward, he attempted to give me back the rose.

“Take it!” I snarled. “It will remind you of our deal!”

While this was going on, the Invisibles were saddling up his horse so that he could leave as soon as he was ready.

After I spoke, he stood up again, shaking almost to the point of falling over. But once the deal was struck, he took off through the hallway, ran out the door, jumped onto his horse, and galloped off toward the gate, which was already open.

When he and his horse were about to cross through the gate, I thundered, “Do not forget! One week!”

As they galloped into the Dark Forest, I sprinted to my father’s study, opened the window, and roared at them. I watched until I could not see them anymore, with anger in my eyes and fury in my heart.

Then I started thinking about what had happened.
Maybe I was too harsh on the old man
. Suddenly guilt started to set in. But our deal had given me a chance to find a girl I might fall in love with aside from the one from the Rose House; maybe she would feel the same about me. But trying to justify my actions did not help me feel less remorse.

While I was thinking about being able to meet Mirabelle, I started thinking about the beauty in the Rose House. But then I thought,
The odds of ever meeting that beauty would be slim to none.
However, I was not sure how well Mirabelle was going to like me since I had forced her to come.