Beast (15 page)

Mirabelle stayed locked in her room for almost two weeks or so. Because I did not want her to starve, I always asked the Invisibles to have a meal ready for her in her room. I knew that when she wanted to come out of her room, she would.

I was growing aggravated, but I knew that she did not like me because I had made her come. I had to place myself in her position. It had been so long since I’d had a companion other than Buttons, but I needed to be patient.

One morning, when I was walking in from the roof, I went to Mirabelle’s door. I knocked on it.

“Mirabelle? If you would like breakfast with me, there is some in the dining room. I would love it if you would join me, please,” I informed her, as I had on other days.

I heard no noise from her room, so I left to grab a book from the library. Then I made my way down to the dining room.

While I hoped that Mirabelle would come eat breakfast, I did not believe that she would end up coming down. The more I thought about it, the more I did not think that she was going to ever come to breakfast.

I sat in the dining room by myself for a while. Though I sat in a chair at the table, trying to read my book, my eyes were fixed upon the empty plate and chair next to me.

As soon as I was about to give up hope, I heard someone slowly walking though the hallway with the paintings. Mirabelle walked into the dining room.

The Invisibles had laid out a dress for her to wear, which was a beautiful blue dress. It made her eyes look blue instead of grey. Her hair was down, and she moved a piece of it behind her ear.

“Good morning, Mirabelle,” I said softly as I stood up, acknowledging her presence.

“Morning, Beast,” she said somberly.

She made her way over to the table and then sat down.

“How did you sleep?” I asked

“Okay,” she said quickly but almost inaudibly.

“I am sorry. I hope that your day today is better than it has been. Let me know if there is anything I can give you or do for you.”

She began to eat little by little the breakfast the Invisibles had made for her, which was eggs and orange juice and warm, freshly made bread.

Not once while she ate did she ever look up. I could tell that she did not want to be here at all. I thought I saw tears hit the china while she ate. Again I began to feel horrid about myself.

Once she finished eating, she looked up at me.

“Is there anything I can do for you, Beast?”

“No, Mirabelle. While you are here, you are my guest. You do not need to do any more than you want to do.”

She nodded and started to stand up.

“Oh, and Mirabelle, if you ever need anything, just say it into the air.”

“The air?” she said, confused, wrinkling her brow. “That seems a little strange, but then again, this is not a normal castle as far as I can see.”

“Yes, it is a little bit enchanted.” I laughed.

“Thank you for breakfast.”

Mirabelle turned and then walked out of the room.

The day passed, and it was time for dinner. I went to find Mirabelle to let her know that dinner was ready. I found her outside with her horse; she was brushing him. As I walked closer to them, I could tell that her horse did not like the sight of me. The whites of his eyes showed, his ears faced backward, and he began to step, almost as if he were trying to step away from me. So I stopped in my tracks.

“Mirabelle, I would love it if you accompanied me for dinner,” I told her.

“Okay, thank you,” she said softly.

I hurried to the dining room to help the Invisibles set the table. Again there was only one plate.

It was awhile before Mirabelle came walking into the dining room. The second she stepped foot in the room, it lit up in ways I could not explain. She looked so lovely in a green dress that the Invisibles must have placed on her bed. Mirabelle looked around before making her way to the table.

“Good evening, Mirabelle,” I said softly as she walked over.

“Evening, Beast,” she said with sadness.

“I know you do not want to be here, but I am thankful for your company. Before your father came here, I was so lonely in this castle,” I informed her.

She looked down to her plate without saying a word. I could feel her despair as if it were mine.

“You look quite beautiful tonight, Mirabelle,” I stated as I looked down to the table.

I had never told anyone besides Mother how well she looked.

“Thank you,” she said without lifting her head.

I was not sure if she did not look at me because of how hideous I looked, or if she could not stand the sight of the cruel creature that had made her come to an enchanted castle.

So badly did I want to ask her everything I had ever wondered about her from the first time I saw her on my twenty-first birthday. But I knew that she probably did not want me to ask her questions.

“So,” I said, attempting to make small talk, “what is your horse’s name?”

“His name is Majestueux,” she said, again without lifting her head.

“That is a lovely name for a horse. We used to have a few horses that occupied our barn. My horse’s name was Rêveur. She was a beautiful palomino and was as sweet as could be.”

“You had horses? How many? We had many horses until we had to move. Majestueux was one of the only horses we were able to keep,” she said. She finally looked up from her plate but then looked right back down.

“We had about five.”

She nodded and then proceeded to push the food around on the plate. It reminded me of how I had been after the night that I had the nightmare, or vision, about my parents’ death.

“Is there anything I can do for you to help you sleep better tonight, Mirabelle?” I asked after a long silence.

“No.”

I looked back down to the table and then back at Mirabelle.

“May I be excused?” she asked.

“Would you like to stay with me by the fire?”

“No, I am sorry. I need to sleep.”

“That is fine. Good night, Mirabelle.”

“Good night, Beast.”

I wanted to be with her longer, but I could not make her do something that she did not want to do.
But how am I going to make her want to spend time with me?
I had a lot of thinking to do.

As I sat by the fire for the rest of the night, Buttons joined me, lying on my chest as I lay on the couch. He purred as I petted him. I did not know why he even wanted to spend time with me.

Before I knew it, morning had come. I could hear the Invisibles in the kitchen, making breakfast for Mirabelle. Buttons was still with me. I picked him up to set him on the couch; he was still asleep.

Once I could hear the clanging of pans no longer, I walked to Mirabelle’s room. I knocked on the door to invite her to breakfast. Again I heard no sound from her room, so I proceeded to the dining room to wait for her.

This time she did not show up. I assumed it was because she hated me. Who could blame her? I sure could not.

I picked up the dishes and silverware and took them into the kitchen. Then I walked to my room to gaze upon the roses. As I sat on my bed, tears came to my eyes.

After spending a lot of time in my room, I walked down the stairs, deciding to make my way outside. I had not checked on the roses for a while, so I needed to see them.

The last time I had seen them, eight of the roses still had petals. But when I arrived at the rose bed that day, I saw that only two roses had any petals on them. The petals on the two roses were still brown, ugly, and brittle.

As I stood there staring, I could hear footsteps making their way toward me. I turned my head to my left and saw Mirabelle approaching. However, I was not expecting her to say anything; I was just going to enjoy her presence.

“What are you looking at?” she said as she walked toward me.

“At the roses. Well, what is left of the rose bed,” I said, not realizing that she was making conversation.

“What happened to them?”

“Honestly, I do not know. One day I looked outside of the dining room and noticed that they were like this. For almost two hundred years, there were eight roses with petals on them; now there are two roses with petals. Yes, the petals were brown like the ones on these two.

“I worked every day out here, trying to help them, but no matter what I did, it never worked. I did as much as I could. Then I could not help them anymore.”

“Why is that?”

“I was no longer able to hold a shovel or a watering can. I am sorry. I need to leave.”

As I walked away, I could feel her watching me. The roses had just made me feel even worse than I had been feeling before.

Chapter 9
 

T
he sun was about to set; it was dinnertime. For a while, I walked around, attempting to find Mirabelle. After failing, I decided to make my way back into the dining room. That is where I found her; she was sitting on the couch near the fireplace.

“I was looking for you to let you know that dinner was ready,” I told her, laughing a little.

“Oh, well, I figured that we would eat around the same time. So, as the sun began to set, I walked to my room to change. Then I walked here,” she explained.

“Would you like to eat, Mirabelle?”

“Yes, I would.”

She stood up from the couch, fixed the wrinkles in her long orange skirt, and made her way to the table. I attempted to smile at her, but it might have been more frightening than comforting.

As I had a few nights before, I just sat and enjoyed her company. I still wanted to converse with her, but I did not want to bother her with my questions.

“How are you liking you dinner tonight?” I asked nervously.

“It is delicious. Thank you,” she answered.

“Mirabelle, may I ask you a question?”

“Only if I can ask you one,” she said after a little bit of silence.

“Okay, that seems fair. If your name is Caressa, why does everyone call you Mirabelle?”

“Actually, a lot of people do not know that my name is really Caressa. Everyone has been calling me Mirabelle for so long that no one ever asks if that is my real first name,” she told me.

“Really? Now, why is that?”

“When I was born, my parents could not decide between naming me Caressa or Mirabelle. Both names had meanings that were important to my parents.

“So their solution to this dilemma was to use both. They decided that as I grew, they would decide, based on my personality, which name I should go by. That is why people call me Mirabelle. It is the name I answer to.”

“What do those names mean?”

“Mirabelle means ‘wondrous beauty.’ And Caressa means ‘loving touch.’”

“I see why they call you Mirabelle. You are truly the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. The name you are called by fits you extremely well, though I am sure that Caressa fits you just the same.”

When I was saying this, I thought I saw her smile, even blush. When I saw this, I became nervous. My heart was pounding so loudly that I was sure she could hear it.

“Thank you, Beast. That is nice of you to say. Now I have a question for you. You said earlier that you were able to take care of the roses.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then you said you had to stop. What did you mean by that?”

Before I answered, I looked at her beautiful face staring back at me, at the ground, and then back at her. I was not sure if I should tell her all about what had happened.

“Well, I was not always how you see me now. I had to stop because it was difficult to do anything with paws for hands.”

“Oh. I am sorry about your roses.”

“Me too.”

She finished her meal and excused herself.

“Mirabelle?” I said as she was about to walk into the hallway with the paintings. “Will you marry me?”

She looked at me with shock and fear. She looked around the room, confused.

“No. I am sorry, Beast. I cannot.”

After she answered me, she hurried out of the room as fast as she possibly could.

Maybe I should not have asked her that,
I thought. But I was so in love with her. I really did not know what else to do. I knew it was a mistake.

As I was on the roof that night, I could not think of anything but Mirabelle and how excited I was to see her in the morning.

A few days passed. Because of what I had asked her a few nights before, Mirabelle kept her distance from me—so much so that she did not come to breakfast or dinner for a while.

I did not want her to starve, so I asked the Invisibles bring her meals, just as I had during her first few days in the castle.

At breakfast maybe three or four days later, she finally came to the dining table to eat. She did not say a word, nor did she look up from her plate, but at least she felt comfortable enough to be in the same room with me.

I could tell that I had made her uncomfortable; I had learned my lesson the hard way, of course. While I did mean what I had asked, it had not been the right time to ask her.