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

Chapter Thirty-One || To Deny a Beast

I WOVE MY fingers around a strip of leather, grasping a steel-toothed comb as to brush Maverick's knotted mane. The stallion paid me no attention and only continued to feed on the hay in his closure.

As I drew the comb through his mane, I recalled Raoul speaking something of his mother favoring Maverick...It was of no consequence that he ordered the stable boys to saddle Maverick—that he chose to send me off with his prized stallion over all others. I frowned. What did he hope to win by that? I had already denied his offer of sending me off with a carriage as it would slow me down and draw far more attention than I would wish.

"His lordship suggests you leave now." Madame Dubois.

Aveneil's mane slipped between my fingers in thick clumps. Without turning in her direction, I asked, "Is he not going to come here to bid me off himself?"

"Do you wish him to?"

I did not respond.

She went on to say, "For fear that he change his mind and find himself unable to let you go, no." She spoke with a stiffness that was foreign to my ears. "He urges you to depart before then."

"He need not worry." I set my jaw. I will return.

"This..." she said hesitantly, "is from his lordship." The wavering in her voice and had my brows draw together. She carried a neatly folded paper, one that I could only assume was his. "He also wishes to send you off with some of your dresses and jewelry."

"I have no use for such things in my village," I told her as I slid the piece of paper into the sack strung over Maverick's back. It comforted me to run my hand along the blades of my knives, each of them freshly sharpened should the need arise. "Where are Aurore and the rest of the servants?"

"They..." I heard her shuffle closer. "They are at his door. He has not spoken a word to them and refuses to exit his room until he is certain you have gone. Forgive him, please, my lady."

I only shook my head. "There is nothing to forgive. Let him be made aware of that. Thank you, Madame." As I hoisted myself atop Maverick, her fingers closed around mine.

"My lady," she whispered. "Have faith in his lordship."

My fingers tightened around the reins. "'Tis not faith I need in him." Mere faith would do no good.

"No. Perhaps not. " She paused. "Perhaps you only need honesty with yourself." Her hands slipped from mine. "Go, now."

I dared not argue with her and instead held her words in a tight bundle shoved into some distant, dark corner within my mind. I snapped my wrist and settled atop Maverick's back, beckoning him forth. He spurred from beneath me, hooves clopping against the frozen ground and trampling over any lingering words upon my tongue.

I gritted my teeth and fixed my gaze so that I would not be tempted to look back. The wind whipped through my hair and nipped at my skin, drawing tears to my narrowed eyes. I only urged the stallion faster.

Once Maverick thundered past the threshold of the castle, I sensed the shattering bellow from behind us. They shook the very earth and the trees, reverberating through me and brushing along my very being.

"I will return, Raoul," I whispered softly, as if it were an oath I was determined to keep myself to. "I will."

Roars chased after the clopping of hooves, fading into ringlets of wind and unspoken promises. They were a sad, broken sound. But I did not turn back.

I would—could—not.