Beast within the Beauty || A Beauty and the Beast Retelling

Chapter Nine || To Consort with a Beast

I HAD BEGUN to think that I could navigate within the castle walls efficiently up until I found myself in a room with no doors or windows. There were no candles either, for the room had suddenly gone dark the moment I closed the doors. I looked around, knowing I had only just stepped in through massive doors.

I had been on my way to dinner, following the ever-confusing path from my rooms to those halls. My heart began to thud a little more than softly. Since I had neglected to be guided by a servant, I knew I was trapped in the enclosed room until a door decided to morph back into the wall.

What if these walls decided I was better kept in this room and never reopened? It wouldn't be that bad, would it? I chewed on my lip.

For good measure, I pressed a hand to the wall, dragging it along as to make sure there was no exit that my eyes were somehow blind to. As I continued to circle my way around the room, I found a partition in the walls.

From one side of the room, it looked as though it were solid and impassable. But now that I stood against it, I could see the widening crack of light. I stepped towards the light, easily walking through the corridor as the shadows parted and bright light poured onto me and unsighted me.

Slow mocking claps sounded in the room before me.

I squinted, letting my eyes adjust to the sudden exposure of light. Even though the shadows lurked in the corners and the candles flickered every now and then, it was far brighter than I preferred. When I had finally opened them, I saw my masked lord husband standing tall before me. I had the sudden urge to pull the mask from his face but knew that was a fruitless endeavor.

"I see that you have realized how you should be moving around these rooms," he said. "If you surrender your senses, these hallways will deceive you and take you to places you should not visit." Such as the West Wing.

I turned and looked to where I had come from, seeing that it was the side he had not used before. "I want a map," I told him. "It takes me tenfold the amount of time with each dinner. It is rather bothersome."

"Not as bothersome as the fact that you spent last night kissing my guard," he remarked and I grew still, panic in my throat. "Do your wedding oaths of faithfulness mean nothing?"

I shut my eyes and braced myself, pretending his words had no effect on me. "No, they do not, for I had not fallen dead with the crime of sin," I told him, speaking bravely and eloquently as I neared him. "And you speak rather boldly for a man that has had countless wives all of whom died in their marriages."

"A fair point," he admitted but offered no further explanation.

My feet slid to a stop atop the marble floors and I tilted my chin to meet his gaze. He did not move, staring back with that emotionless, masked face. The silence wove around us, chaining us with its threads. We stood like that for what felt like hours, his lips pressed into a line that was not quite a frown and I wondered what words he left unspoken.

After long, he extended a hand to me and after little contemplation, I slid my palm into his. He led me to my seat and brushed his fingers along my arm as I sat. His hands found the back of my seat and pushed it in as a gentleman would.

I watched as he made his way around the table and settled into his seat. His gaze fell onto mine.

"Why do you demand a maiden be wed to you every year?" I asked, raising my glass to him. He did the same and I tipped the glass back and downed it in one go. The wine was sweet on my tongue, though it left my mouth feeling dry and craving more. No sooner had I set the glass on the table, another was poured. I drank it with ease, wanting the wine to take my mind and drown it in illusions.