The Beast's Ward

Chapter Five: Angelic Devil

I descended the stairs slowly, listening to the echo of my shoes' hard soles on the wooden steps. My heart pounded loudly, nearly drowning out all other noise. At the base of the staircase, a masked servant bowed and extended a helpful hand to aid my balance. "Thank you." I mouthed to him wordlessly.

Taking a deep, ragged breath, I rounded the corner to the dining room. There, Christopher stood, peering out of a window, his clawed hands clutching at new crimson drapes. His eyes shifted wildly, as though he were searching for something. His feline lips were pulled into a rigid scowl. His brow was furrowed over his searching eyes. His expression was one of dread.

"Christopher?" I called to him softly.

He turned his head and the look of dread vanished, his whole face lighting up to see me in the dress he'd given me, though his brows remained furrowed with worry. "You're wearing my last gift. I didn't think you opened it."

"I didn't." I replied solemnly. "Until just now." I peeked at him through lowered eyes. My hands were clutched tightly at my waist. "Christopher…I…am so sorry. I jumped to conclusions and I should not have. I judged you far too quickly. You say that I'm kind, but I've been anything but recently."

His lips tweaked in one corner, into what had quickly become his trademark smirk. "The fact that you are aware of your rashness and thought to apologize is evidence of your good heart, Miss Craft." He spoke in his soft and low voice. "I don't blame you for rushing to judge me. People tend to judge by appearances alone. If I look like a beast, then I must be one…" He reached up and touched his heart. "On the inside as well."

"But you're not."

"Hopefully." He shrugged his broad shoulders. "At least I try not to be. I know that I scared you when you first arrived. It's okay if it takes you a while to trust me. All I ask is that you give me a chance to show you how little my heart…my soul has changed. I am a beast, but inside I'm still a scared little boy." He chuckled lightly. "A scared little boy who doesn't know how to act in front of pretty girls." His chuckle grew into that deep bellied laughter of his.

Despite the heaviness in my heart, I laughed too and my troubles were lifted instantaneously. His laughter was infectious. "Thank you, Christopher. Truly, thank you. For everything, especially for making Foxy feel at home. She loves her gifts." I said, as the laughter subsided.

"Foxy is very welcome." Christopher grinned. "I've never been too fond of dogs, not since your uncle's Doberman bit my foot when I was a child, the mean devil."

"You were bitten by my uncle's dog?" I smiled back at him, trying to imagine Christopher as a less hairy child, running from a dog. He looked so powerful now, it was hard to imagine him being scared of anything, at least anything other than me.

"Sure did, he bit clear through my boot!" He laughed, then his face softened. "I don't like dogs, but I see how much you love Foxy. If she brings you a little happiness, then that's all that matters."

"Thank you, Christopher." I replied, quietly smiling.

"You're very welcome, Isabel." He stiffened and clasped a hand over his mouth as soon as my name passed his lips. "Excuse me. Miss Craft." He corrected.

"Christopher, it's really-" I was interrupted as a servant rushed into the room, its form fading to gray and silver as it zoomed past me.

It handed Christopher a note and as Christopher read it, his brows furrowed deeply. His hands began to tremble. He looked at me, looking very shaken and frightened. "I…I'm sorry, Miss Craft, but I'm afraid we can't dine together tonight. It seems I have an unexpected visitor. Please, come with me. Hurry." He took me by the hand and hurried me up the stairs.