Beloved Beast

Chapter Ten

           Elle awoke the next morning feeling a tiredness in her bones that she hadn't felt before, and for a time she lay upon the bed, engaged in thoughts of her dark captor.

           Heartless monster; those were the words of others. Lord Rossetti was many things – but a monster? Sure, he was reclusive, a bit temperamental, and an enigma all around, but the word monster implied a many vicious and vile things, things she had yet to witness of the dark and brooding man that set her heart to racing. She of all people understood how cruel and unjust the biased opinions of others could be, so why do unto him what was done terribly unto her?

          She sat up and brushed strands of tousled hair from her face, recalling with a darkening blush Rossetti's hoarse command to undo them the previous day. The subtle stroke of his fingers on her hair would hardly be considered distinguishable to another, but to her, it had been as poignant on her senses as if he had caressed her from the inside out.

          He had promised to take her to the shores.

          But he hadn't come.

          She had never felt more foolish. His absence should have served as an indication that perhaps there was some truth to the loquacious tongues that rambled. And yet still, she could not deign to label him a beast.

          There was no denying that Lord Rossetti was an intense and challenging man, and much against a lingering knot of fear and judgment, she found herself wanting to unveil the mystery of him.

          Shoving the coverlets aside, she climbed from the bed, feeling somewhat lightheaded as she came to rest on her feet. Thinking little of it, she shook the feeling off and padded barefoot to the window.

          She was beginning to understand the layout of her room and having to no longer rely on her wooden staff was a welcoming sense of independence.

          As she came to stand before the window, she shivered against the brisk morning air that seeped in through the castle walls, realizing the fire had extinguished some time within the night. It left her chambers bereft of warmth, giving it a somber air that made her more cognizant to the cold, stone walls around her.

          In this desolate place, she had never felt more alone.

          She thought of her family. How did her mother fare? And her sisters, did they miss her as she missed them? Was her father's injury on the mend?

          The notion of her father gave her pause. Though she had accepted her captivity, there was no refuting the resentment and hurt in her heart. Her father's decision to barter her in some attempt to restore their livelihood had felt much akin to betrayal.

            Do you forget that you are a burden to them? Her logic snapped. They are likely faring better than ever now that they are not tethered to you.

          Elle stiffened against the disparaging notion. Esme at times was callous with her words and had on occasion voiced such an opinion, but her mother and father, even Elsa, had never expressed such declarations aloud, nor would they. But that didn't mean they weren't there. How could they not be? Surely her family grew weary of coddling her, of managing her every step, despite her efforts to be anything but dependent upon them. The villagers certainly did not curb their opinions in that matter.

          She was not ashamed of her blindness, but there were some dead-set on discrediting her character because of it, and it roused discouragement, nonetheless casting a shadow of self-doubt. To feel helpless and incompetent was a pair of unsavory feelings, and it was terrible to think her worth was as limited as her sight.