Beauty and the Beast (Not Quite the Fairy Tale #3) (10 page)

“I cowardly. Don’t like fighting. But no choice during war. I go to battle. I was to die by his Highness’s hand. I feared. So I dropped my weapon; he not killed me. He take me home to do what I like.”

He gestured around to the kitchen.

Belle winced at the unexpected tale.

Well, fuck me.

Truth was, she had known very little of the Prince’s deeds – she was better versed in what he’d failed to do.

She felt a reluctant wave of admiration towards the selfish bum, along with the usual resentment. If he was that amazing, why had he stopped?

That night, perched on the wooden ladder fitted against the bookshelves, Belle couldn’t concentrate on the story she was reading, distracted by the real world, for once.

When none of the words before her made sense, she got up, walked toward the unnecessarily large TV and switched it on to the news channel.

There he was.

Belle’s stomach twisted when she took him in. Damn if he wasn’t a gorgeous bastard; she hated him all the more for it.

Thing was, she didn’t like pretty boys. She wasn’t affected by them. Not the way Beast could affect her, by exuding confidence, power, and truth.

Yet, the pretty Prince on TV dazzled her. It pissed her off, until she managed to point out why.

It wasn’t his physique – not really. It was the fact that even through the screen, she could see that he had the same aura as the Beast around him.

Power. He spoke, you listened. He smiled, you felt relieved. He frowned, you worried.

She forced herself to stop gawping, and concentrate on his words. 

Five minutes in, she turned the damn TV off.

She was supposed to hate him, more than anything in the world.

She was supposed to feel like joining the anti-royalists and help them organize an attack against him.

Instead, all she felt was love.

They say there is a fine line between love and hate, and damn if they aren’t right, whoever they might be.

Aiden Archer had just given her the most unexpected, incredible, priceless gift she’d ever get in her entire life, selflessly.

Well, not selflessly. She knew a publicity stunt when she saw one, but still.

Belle got dressed, ran down the stairs and speeded all the way to her sister’s place.

It was Ben who opened the door; obviously, they’d all watched the same show.

“So, you’ve heard?”

“Yeah. Does she qualify?”

Ben nodded.

“She got a call this afternoon. She’s booked in next week.” 

Belle pushed past him to run into their sister’s arms, and both of them were squalling like the teenagers they’d never really had a chance to be.

Lucia was going to get taken care of.

Anyone who had, over the last ten years, suffered a severe condition that could in any way be ameliorated with suitable medical help was eligible to get their care funded by the Prince himself. His royal pain had taken the trouble to track down and contact some of the most obvious cases. Like Lucia.

While she’d had high and mighty educated theories before, she realized she’d never really known what a Prince was; what a Prince should be.

Someone who inexpertly butted in, saved the day and made her wildest dreams come true.

Chapter Eleven

Truth

“
L
ame.”

Aiden flipped his dad the bird. His latest idea was
so not
lame.

“Getting unemployed kids to start apprenticeships around the palace is majorly lame. And the head butler is going to make your life a living hell, if you give him a bunch of unruly children to train. Besides, that’s enough pussy footing, son. You need to man up and go see her.”

Yeah, right. He could imagine it.

So, Belle, you know how you like the Beast, and you can’t stand the Prince… guess what? We’re the same person, actually.

That was going to go down
so
well.

“Look, I know her. She hates me. She needs to believe Aiden Archer isn’t that bad before she’ll give me the time of day. She cares about kids – a lot. So…”

“So,” Armand interrupted, “propose. And mention in passing that she can run the youth department if she damn well feels like it.”

Aiden was grateful for the interruption when Clocks popped his head into his private library; he had moved his office into that room – it felt right.

He could imagine Belle perched on the windowsill, a book in hand, while he was doing his thing.

“You have a visitor.”

Aiden frowned. He had
thousands
of visitors everyday; none of them got to see him, save for those who managed to score appointments.

“Trust me. You’ll want to speak to this one.”

Oh well, he could use a break from his father’s matchmaking instructions.

“Fine. Dad, don’t you have something to do?”

The King shrugged, not moving from the sofa.

“Nah. You’re doing all the work, that’s fine by me. I’ll carry on supervising.”

Yeah, right. By that, he meant eating all of his biscuits, drinking most of his tea and bringing up Belle every ten minutes or so.

His visitor passed the threshold, and Aiden immediately went up to his feet.

Fuck.

“That’s what I thought,” Benjamin Thornton said, seeing panic in his gaze.

Shit. Did that mean Belle knew who he was, too?

“I broke into your account, remember?” the thief said, interpreting his expression correctly. “It said your name on there. Then, the Beast miraculously disappeared just when you came back. I can add two and two just fine.”

His eyes narrowed; what did that guy want?

“He broke into one of your accounts?”

Armand sounded impressed, rightfully so.

“Man, Aiden’s accounts are monitored and protected by the royal security.”

Ben shrugged.

“Yeah well, the royal security sucks. It was child’s play.”

Before his father could offer him a job or something, Aiden intervened, making the introductions.  

“Dad, this is Sibelle’s brother. Dipshit, meet the King.” 

“Lovely,” the guy responded, showing a degree of contempt that made Aiden want to remind him what it felt like to be nailed on a cross. “Either way, I just popped by to give you that.”

He dropped a check on his table, amounting to a hundred thousand. Without another word, he started to leave the room.

“So that’s it. No
stay away from my sister
or anything?”

Ben chuckled, turning back.

“No, by all mean. Go get her. Just make sure you call me, first. Wouldn’t wanna miss it, when she rips you a new one.”

Aiden had almost let him reach the threshold, before stopping him in his tracks.

“Thornton, I have a proposal for you.”

He was going to regret that; he really, really was.

“What could it possibly be, your highness?”

Fuck. In for a penny…

“I hear there’s an opening for a guy who could design a decent security system around here.”

That got his interest.

Aiden made a show of taking, and ripping the check on his desk in little pieces while he talked.

“And well, I have it under good authority that you might have some understanding in the matter. There might be the occasional breaking into foreign government systems, too. Doing a bit of spying on the sly, if you’re not adverse to those kinda things.”

He knew enough about Ben to be certain he’d bite. The guy had crazy skills, but he’d never held a full time job; not because he couldn’t, but because hacking into things was thrilling, challenging, and most jobs were boring.

Aiden was offering a salary for doing what he loved on a daily basis.

“The salary’s pretty good, it comes with tons of benefits, as well as some sort of title…”

“Cut the crap. What do you want?”

Aiden’s toothy smile was positively Machiavellian.

“I want you.” Before it got too weird, he clarified: “Your oath. I’d like you on my side, Ben Thornton. Soon, you’ll be my brother; I’ll get a say about your nieces and nephews’ godparents, and about who your sister invites for dinner parties.”

It was the first time he’d acknowledged it out loud; sure, the King had babbled about getting him to marry Belle for days, but Aiden hadn’t said anything about it yet.

Now he had, though, it seemed factual, evident. There was no uncertainty, no doubt. Everything was a matter of
when
rather than if.

Sibelle Thornton could look at the Beast and see someone worth caring for though his appearance, his bullshit, his occupation. Well, if that hadn’t been a deterrent, he was pretty confident he’d manage to sway her, eventually.

He had to.

And if he had to give a job to her thief of a brother to get there quicker, so be it.

“Help me get Belle and we’ve got a deal.” 

“Damn. Now
that
was not lame at all. I’m impressed, son.”

“You’d really think I’d sell my sister for a
job.”

“No. I think you’re fully aware that your sister will be mine whether you approve or not. I just figured, if I had you in my corner while I do the groveling, it might take a year or two, rather than five.”

Ben glared, for a long time, before sighing and coming back into the library.

“Ok, so here’s what you need to do. First, you need roses. Loads and loads of roses.”

♦

Day fifteen after the Prince’s return. Still no word from the Beast. She’d watched enough news to get utterly frustrated with everything attached to either of them.

The first issue was the Beast’s absence. Not only from the Nest – that, she could have understood. But he also wasn’t anywhere else; she caught glimpses of Clocks and Lightwood on TV, but none of him.

For goodness sake’s, the guy wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.

She tried to ignore it, but there was a sense of unease growing in her chest. Was he alright? He might be hurt – why, otherwise, wouldn’t he have
written?

Unexpectedly, it was Ben who came up with an answer to that one.

They’d been at the clinic together, waiting for Lucia to finish her latest appointment, and he’d asked if she was alright.

She’d lied of course, but the guy had sort of known her for twenty-three years, so that had been rather pointless.

“It’s nothing, I swear. Just… Ok, don’t judge, alright?”

Ben gave her a look which translated to
me, judging
you
?

He never had, and never would.

“I kinda… grew quite close to the Beast. Not like
that.
I just pretended to fuck him to piss you off, dipshit.”

“Why does everyone have to call me that?”

She shrugged; if the shoe fits.

“Anyway, I like him. I’m pretty sure he liked me. But he hasn’t been in for two weeks – he hasn’t even written a word or, I don’t know, called…”

Ben chuckled, before interrupting her.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, baby sister… but your Beast? He’s a guy. Kind of a manly man, in case you haven’t noticed. I bet anything he gathered up every guy he knew and asked them what to do about you. And while they probably advised
everything
from serenading to declaring his undying love on TV… no one devoid of a uterus would have suggested writing a letter. Or calling.”

Strangely that conversation cheered her up. Ben might have a point; it was possible that the Beast was just being a guy.

Day fifteen was the day the roses came.

She’d smelt them from dawn; it wasn’t an old lady’s perfume, but the real fresh, natural scent. She was so intrigued she got up to go see what it could be.

There were attendants chartering around trees; actual blossoming trees, not stupid cut roses. All of them were pale; white, soft pink and yellow. None were the red roses she loved above all, but damn. Any rose was pretty amazing.

They were taking them to the back, to a closed garden which had been entirely gray – without a shred of life. The roses now paved a path from the doors to the fountain against the end wall.

“What is this…”

“The lord’s redesigning the rose garden in main residence, my lady. We’ve been asked to get rid of that lot.”

Just like that, she was pissed.

She’d convinced herself for a few instances that it had been
for
her, but no. It was just some stupid surplus they’d had to throw somewhere.

Belle was also pissed at the Beast, for taking the time to design gardens, when he couldn’t be hassled to pop by and say hi – the palace wasn’t that far – and pissed at the Prince, for taking up all his time, as well as pissed at herself, for still expecting him to
care,
and above all, pissed at those servants.

Because they were playing her. She knew it now. Why else would they all ensure they never called him anything but “the Lord.”

They knew his name; they must.

She wasn’t sure how, but she knew exactly where to go for answers. It came to her so quickly, she wondered if she hadn’t voluntarily delayed the decision to go there.

Without changing out of her night gown, Belle walked straight down to the only floor she had yet to explore.

The underground dungeons far less creepy than what she’d imagined; sure, there were antique cells, with bars and all, but they were clean and mostly spider-free.

Every room was unlocked, saved for one; but as she’d mentioned before, she was Ben Thornton’s sister. Sorta.

Using a hair pin, she got in.

There were loads and loads of stuff stored in there, most in boxes, some bare against the wall. Furniture, books, paintings. Everything was costly – priceless, in fact.

The decoration in the entire building was luxurious, but this was something else entirely. History.

The large, delicate carvings belonged in a museum.

Paying more attention, she soon realized that the room was insulated; a cold, safe box where these treasures could rest in peace.

“Just don’t go down to the dungeons,”
he’d said.

What are you hiding, Beast?

It took her less than five minutes to find out.

The first painting might have been irrelevant, the second, a coincidence, but by the third, she knew.

All these great men and woman represented on the canvases, all these books, these regal sculptures bore the same name, the same emblem.

It belonged to the Archers.

Fuck me
didn’t even begin to cover it
.