Page 51 of The Beast & His Beauty
With a noise behind me, clothes gather themselves in a pile and I accept the magic’s offering. They appear from nothing and are far better than the strips of fabric. I allow them to dress me as I do every morning. It dawns on me the number of times I’ve thought it was the beast who tore them. I glance at my hand and as I turn it, my palm seems to be more like I once was.
“Father,” she says, and my beauty distracts me.
Bandages and a large bowl of water float in through the door, and Elle accepts them, then sets about cleaning her father’s wound. He’s already talking to her, though he winces when he turns his head, so I think the wound is worse than it appears. Elle dabs the blood away with a wet cloth and bandages the wound. Then she holds his hand in hers, and the two of them speak to each other.
Their hands…
If she is right…
I place a hand to my chest and allow myself to feel what is there.
It feels like the chest of a man. My pulse speeds up, but I leave my hand on my chest. I am not imagining it. The beast feels different because he is more than a man. There is a wolflike creature within him as well.
Hardly breathing, I lift my hand to my face.
It is the first time in so many years that I have felt the face of a prince under my fingertips that I have to swallow a gasp. I keep my face turned away from the mirror, because I do not want the magic of the curse to interfere. Am I truly what I once was?
Across the room, Elle helps her father to his feet. “What were you thinking, Father?”
He embraces her again. “I had to know if you were all right. I could not spend the rest of my days wondering what had happened to you.”
“I am well,” she says, smiling at him. “I promise I am well, Father. But you should not be seen coming to or from the castle. No one else can know I am here.”
They pause at the top of the steps, and Elle’s father looks over her head at me. I rise to my feet, keeping a hand on the table for balance.
“Who is this?”
“The prince,” she answers.
“Prince?” His eyes narrow and then widen in awe. “You’re alive? You’re…unchanged?” he questions and my heart races. He sees me as I once was, too? His voice hushes. “Where is the beast?”
“He is both, Father,” she tells him, and I stare in wonder. He stares at me, leery and unsure of what Elle’s said.
“Let’s get him to a room,” I offer.
“Thank you,” Elle murmurs and I reach out, bracing the old man’s arm and he lets me. More than that, he thanks me as well.
I lead them down the stairs and to a room that hasn’t been used in decades, letting her say her goodbyes in privacy at the entrance of the room. Elle steps out and closes the door behind her.
Quietly, I lead her down the hall, my mind reeling and a new feeling coming over me. It is just the two of us now.
“When he is well, I will send him home.”
I only nod in agreement.
“He can tell the villagers I am not here, and there is no one here but magic.”
“That would be wise,” I tell her.
“Perhaps he could return…and stay at times,” she says like it’s a question.
A moment passes and I attempt to see what she sees. “Perhaps,” I answer and then ask, “Would that make you happy?”
“I would like that,” she says softly and then her wide eyes reach mine. “It would make me happy to have company.”
“But you will stay.”
Elle nods, and her eyes drop to the floor. “I will not leave, but I would love his company.”