Beautiful Beast

Chapter 6

ARAWN

"Good morning, monsieur."

I groan in opposition and tuck my head beneath my pillow which is promptly pulled away along with my blankets.

"Rise and shine," Pierre continues in his chirpy, cheerful voice.

Groggily, I lift myself onto one elbow. "Why? It's so early. Look," I motion to the windows where golden light has just begun to shatter the spell of night, "the sun is barely awake."

"But you promised to go riding with her ladyship at dawn. And it is dawn, so up you go," Pierre says from across the room where he is laying out extravagant riding clothes.

I run a hand over my face, hoping to wipe the sleep away. "I didn't promise. I didn't even really say yes and besides..." My brain finally registers that Pierre wants me to wear the clown's outfit he is holding. "No, I am not wearing that. Absolutely not. Get me a pair of breeches and normal riding boots. Please."

After some more fussing, Pierre finds me an agreeable suit of clothing—plain tan breeches, tall leather riding boots, a white linen shirt, and a black doublet. Once I am dressed, I hurriedly swallow some breakfast, then head to the stables.

The beast is waiting for me there, casually holding onto the horses' reins. Unlike its master, my horse seems to be quite at ease near the beast.

"Good morning," the beast says, considering me carefully with her steely grey gaze.

I nod stiffly and take Hector's reins. Slipping my boot in the left stirrup, I swing a leg over Hector's back, then settle comfortably into the saddle. My first instinct is to squeeze Hector's sides and gallop away from this place, but not now, not when I am so close to reaching my objective. Beside me, the beast sits primly upon her side saddle with the skirt of her black riding habit hanging against her horse's side. Black. Always black. Her dresses, her shoes, even her gloves are all black. Where I come from, completely black clothing signals that someone is mourning. I cannot imagine the beast mourning anyone because for that, she would have needed to have loved. But she is a wicked, cold creature.

"Shall we?" She urges Abraxas into a walk.

I follow on Hector, and so begins my larger tour of the grounds. We begin by winding through the gardens again, then we pass through the meadow behind the stables, and finally, we travel the border of the forest which circles around the entire palace. If my calculations are correct, the palace is situated at the very center of what some would call the Enchanted Forest. Over the years, it has acquired many names—Rhyden, Sesna, Kavielle—but somehow everyone keeps calling it the Enchanted Forest. Regardless, it is the way home and as such, I am pulled toward it.

The beast notices the way I stare into the trees and I am sure my longing to be away shows upon my face, but she keeps quiet. We rarely speak, but words are not needed because I can see that she is gradually becoming accustomed to my presence—her shoulders are less tight, her spine not quite as rigid, and the corners of her mouth are softer. This is exactly what I had hoped for. I had not expected it so quickly, but truly, the sooner the better.

At the stables again, the invisible stable boys take the beast's horse and she escapes to the palace. I stay to untack Hector myself and while I do, Johnathan and Mathew gossip copiously. They tell me all about the servants; where they are from, what their pet peeves are, and who is in love with who. On the last topic, I ask them if there will be any weddings soon and they laugh till I am sure they are rolling on the ground. Once they have composed themselves enough to speak, they tell me that marriage would be pointless. In this state, they cannot feel another's touch, not even that of their fellow ghosts, and they will never grow old. They are frozen and until something changes, they will remain frozen. This information angers me and causes me to feel sorry for the servants. What has the beast done to them? Heartless thing that she should steal their lives from them.