The Beast's Ward

Chapter Four: A Remembered Kindness

I didn't sleep at all the night I received my second proposal letter from my guardian, Christopher Thorn.

I paced my bedroom, worrying, wondering. Why was it that he wished to marry me? Was it simply the desperate act of a man who'd been imprisoned alone for most of his life, like he claims, or were there more greedy reasons?

My father was one of the most wealthy merchants in all of London before he died. I stood to inherit a great amount of money. If Mr. Thorn were to become my husband, he'd be able to take part in my inheritance, which included all of my father's worldly possessions as well as the house and land.

I remembered seeing Mr. Thorn's hands, how scarred and calloused they were. He had obviously not grown up wealthy. The grand house he lived in and everything it contained seemed to belong to his jailer, this black magician he had mentioned. Judging by his hands, I guessed that Mr. Thorn had actually grown up poor and, for one reason or another, had been brought here by the sorcerer. The idea of obtaining such a large amount of money would be tempting for any poor man and since he and I were not of any blood relation, according to him, he and I could technically marry if we chose to.

"I can't believe him." I seethed, glaring angrily at the note in my hands, the paper crumpled from my fisting hands. "He's trying to use me to get to my father's money. I just know it." Foxy lay dozing at the foot of my bed, oblivious to my ranting. "I can't believe I thought he was nice. He's just a big, fat liar." I grumbled bitterly, my stomach twisting in the agony of feeling betrayed. I drooped down to the floor like a wilting flower. "He probably thinks I'm naïve and stupid, that a few honeyed words and some gifts will win me over." I groaned and rested my head against my knees. "He was right. I was falling for it, hook line and sinker. What a fool I've been."

The sound of the door knob turning, startled me. I jolted where I sat on the floor. My head shot up and I stared towards the door as it slowly opened. One of the faceless servants wandered into my room. The door had not opened wide enough, so one of his shoulders simply passed through the door itself. I watched the shadow servant go past me. He wasn't bothering to appear human. He had no legs. Instead his body simply faded into a fine grey at the floor. The servant set to his work silently. He sat a large box, wrapped in yellow ribbon on the foot of the bed beside Foxy. The action didn't even stir her. He then laid a teacup shaped rose of a strange blue shade on the vanity where the yellow rose had been laid the night before.

Normally, my blood would have chilled at the mere sight of one of the servants, but tonight it ran boiling hot in my veins. I shot up with a determined scowl on my face. "Before you go, I have something for your master, Mr. Thorn." I huffed. The shadow stared blankly at me in response, but stood and waited for me to scrawl a heated response on the bottom of the proposal letter. I handed it to the shadow as I hissed between gnashing teeth. "I will not, nor will I ever be that beast's wife."

Without a word, the shadow vanished before me, still clutching the crumbled note in his hand.

A full week passed by after that. I didn't see Mr. Thorn at all, not that I looked for him. I dared not venture into the grand garden for fear of crossing his path. He had said that I could find him there if I looked. Somehow I had little doubt of that. Dinner was spent alone. He never showed. I had to deal with the quiet stares of the servants while I ate. The flowers in my room began to wilt, save for the original flower he'd sent me, the crimson rose that had sort of led me there in the first place. It seemed to hold an unnatural vitality. Its petals were still tightly coiled, just as they'd always been. Though I never saw him, I still received gifts. I never opened the box the servant had brought me the night I'd sent my very firm reply. It sat rejected in a far corner of my room. He never bothered to send another large gift, but a single rose would still appear on the vanity every morning, each time in a different shape, shade, or color. The proposal letters never stopped coming either. Every night, after returning from dinner there'd be another outside my door and each time I sent a rejection back.