A Tale of Beauty and Beast: A Retelling of Beauty and the Beast (Beyond the Four Kingdoms #2)(9)

I tried to think of something I could say that would balance my true feelings with some attempt at conciliation. “Your stable is well kept and the horses beautiful. Do you come here often?”

He stared at me, the intensity of his blue eyes seeming to communicate a message, if only I knew how to interpret it. He raised his free hand, as if in greeting, and for a moment I thought he was finally going to speak. But instead he gave a long growl, his lower jaw thrusting forward to reveal his sharp fangs.

I recoiled slightly, a burst of energy urging me to be afraid—to run while I still could. But the instinctive response was quickly overwhelmed by an invigorating anger. Since the moment I had stepped foot in these lands, I had been swept up in a series of unpleasant experiences engineered by this prince to force me to come here. And yet he treated me like an unwelcome intruder.

I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. “Do you truly have nothing to say to me? Are we not betrothed, Beast?” I hoped the title would provoke him into speech, but he merely glared back at me.

Our standoff stretched out, as we stared at each other, neither moving. After a long moment, the stallion neighed and tossed his head, disrupting the Beast’s hand. The prince shook his shaggy head and transferred his grim gaze to the animal. The stallion ignored him, and the Beast turned and strode from the building.

I sagged a little and took a deep breath. I hadn’t made any headway with my new betrothed, but at least I had conquered my own fear. And Chestnut seemed happy and well cared for. Which left me free to begin my explorations.

As I walked back toward the castle, I looked around, sure I would now see tracks in the snow. Sure enough, a set of large indents led from the stable around the main building and disappeared off toward the front entrance. They clearly belonged to the Beast, a name which fit my betrothed much better than Dominic.

No other prints appeared, however—as if the Beast and I were alone in this well-kept place. I frowned. Something was even more wrong with this kingdom than I had imagined. While I tried to find a way around the block preventing me from projecting to Lily, I wouldn’t forget my original goal. I needed to find out what had happened here, and how to reverse it. And, hopefully, while doing that, I would find a way to break my engagement. The sooner I could leave the Beast behind forever, the better. I certainly had no intention of ever letting him touch me. I shuddered at the thought of being that close to him.

I followed the footprints, confident the Beast would be long gone to whatever lair he usually frequented. For the second time, I trod the shallow stairs and paused in front of the huge doors. The castle lacked the cultivated feeling of the magical garden. Instead it felt dark and ominous, even in the bright morning light. I felt sure that every crevice in this cavernous place must be full of dust.

The doors didn’t swing open for me this time, and I pushed at the small door cut into one of the bigger ones. It swung open reluctantly, and I sighed before entering the entrance hall. The garden still made me nervous, but I found it less repugnant than I had expected. The open air turned out to be preferable to the gloomy castle.

Inside, I faced a broad staircase that rose upwards before splitting into two. I had already decided to follow the stairs as high as they would take me. It seemed too simple to hope that height would allow me to bypass the mysterious wall blocking my projections, but I had to try everything. Just in case.

As I stepped forward my stomach twisted, reminding me that I still hadn’t eaten. As if on cue, a door in the far corner of the entrance hall swung wide, allowing me a glimpse of a long, dark dining table. My feet turned toward it, following the instructions of my stomach over my mind.

Sunlight streamed through a row of tall windows that faced onto yet more gardens to the rear of the castle. The oversized room contained the longest table I had ever seen. It looked particularly out of place in this empty land, and the food that had been laid out at one end looked small and lonely.

But when I approached the single seat that had been set for a meal, I realized the size of the table had been deceiving. There was actually enough food for a miniature feast, it was merely dwarfed by the expanse of empty wood. More food than I could possibly eat had been laid out in gleaming bowls and platters. I paused. Was this the Beast’s meal? Surely even he could not eat this much.

I peered around the room but could see no one. After a moment of deliberation, I sat. As much as I regretted it, this was my home now, and I had to eat. If the Beast disliked my actions, perhaps he would finally be roused to speak to me.

The food tasted so delicious it was hard to limit myself to only a small portion of each dish, but I wanted to try everything. I wished I could let Lily know that at the very least I had a warm bed and a full stomach. Loneliness crashed over me. I had never been without a built-in best friend before.

Several tears slid down my cheeks, and for the first time I felt grateful I was completely alone. At least there was no one to witness my grief. As I reached to wipe the moisture away, the rustle I had heard earlier in the corridor swept through the room. It sounded so much like whispering that I twisted, searching the room with my eyes. I was still alone.

I stood up abruptly, and my chair crashed backwards onto the floor. Feeling foolish, I picked it back up before hurrying from the room. I had eaten too much already, and I needed to find a way to communicate with my sister.





Chapter 5





I wandered through the castle for a long time before I managed to find the tallest tower. The invisible whispers followed me. At first, I got hopelessly lost, wandering through an endless maze of interconnected corridors and rooms. The castle had clearly been expensively and elegantly decorated at some point. But, unlike my room, the majority of it had fallen into dusty disrepair.