Beautiful Beast

Chapter 11

ARAWN

In the morning, I fasten lead ropes to both of the horses' halters and take them for a walk about the park. Since coming here, I have avoided Abraxas, afraid that my nearness to him would anger Kalista, but he nickers and paws so at my arrival that I feel sorry for the poor thing.

I worry that when I return, she will be waiting for me, but only the two invisible stable boys are there, and they say nothing of my bold actions.

Kalista is also not in sight upon my return to the palace; she must still be in her rooms. I pause in the atrium, uncertain of where I should go next.

My first desire is to continue exploring the west wing. I didn't get far last time and I'm sure there are many other hidden treasures besides the library. However, Kalista seems to be loosening her fists and I suspect that she will soon offer to show me the west wing. So better to not irritate her unnecessarily.

Upon arriving in the palace, Cedric brings me a stack of books and I carry them to a sitting room with me. I suppose they are a way to keep me happy till Kalista is feeling better. Cedric fetches me when it is near dinner time, insisting that I must change. But per usual, I refuse—this is hardly a royal court—and head straight to the dining room. It is dark and the table is bare, but I smile a little—I have been wanting to see how the servants arrange the feast. However, minute after minute, the room remains completely still. I have just begun to wonder if the banquet will not appear at all when a velvety voice flutters across the room.

"Good evening."

I look to where Kalista is standing in the doorway and in the blink of an eye, candlelight floods the room and the usual luxurious fare spreads across the expanse of the table.

Leaping from my chair, I blink rapidly, sure that the food had not been there a moment ago. "How did this happen?"

"Come now, you are in an enchanted palace." Kalista calmly takes her seat as if this sort of thing is absolutely normal. Well, I suppose for her it is.

Still rather shaken at the sudden transformation, I take my seat again. "Does it do this every night?"

"Promptly at seven o'clock."

"That's how you knew I was late."

Kalista nods, then uses her good arm to position a napkin upon her lap. We eat in silence for a short while, but I have had enough silence to last me ten years, especially this deadly silence of the palace.

"How is your arm?"

She folds back her shawl—tonight it is black rather than the burgundy of yesterday—and shows me a white bandage. "It is healing. Beedy bandaged it again today."

"It's not infected?"

"No, it's quite alright."

There is a pause, then I ask, "Why is Abraxas alive and how has he survived for so long?"

She swallows a bite of pheasant. "As a child, I loved my horse very much and decided that if I had a protection spell upon me, then he must as well. My father made me cast it myself; it was the first one I ever laid."

Her father. This is the first time I have heard her speak of family and before now, I never imagined her to have one. Yes, I saw the portraits in the gallery, but it never fully registered that she had a mother and father and brothers and sisters. But there is something else that sticks out in her explanation as well.

"Why didn't the protection spell save you from the curse?"

"The protection spell is meant to protect me from direct magical assault. The curse is not exactly direct. It does not physically harm me, but it restricts me."