Beast (22 page)

I carefully stepped toward them. Once Majestueux became uncomfortable, I stopped. Each day, wherever we stopped was where I would begin the next time.

Since she’d had him from the time he was born, there was a connection between them that could be seen. While she trotted, her hair flowed in the wind, as did her skirt.

After we had been outside for a long time, the sun hid behind the clouds as it set. The night grew dark quickly. Mirabelle hurried to take her horse back into the barn so that we could change for our Christmas dinner.

While she was running up the steps to the front door, she grabbed her skirt so that she would not trip on it. Once in the castle, we went to our rooms to change.

I ended up in the dining room before she arrived.

“Invisibles, please light the candles on the tree and the table,” I said.

One by one, the candles lit up the tree. Again there was light dancing on the ground from the ornaments’ reflections.

“Beast?” I heard from behind me.

I turned around and saw Mirabelle; I was speechless.

She was wearing a stunning red dress that had green beads on it, and her hair was up with a green ribbon. I had on a red coat over a white dress shirt.

After I put my thoughts together, I bowed, and she curtsied in response. I walked to her and gave her my arm to guide her to the table.

“Mirabelle. You look incredible!” I finally was able to say.

“Oh, thank you, Beast.” She blushed, moving her head toward the ground to hide her pink cheeks.

Once seated, we bowed our heads to say a blessing over the meal.

“Thank you for making this Christmas a wonderful one,” I told Mirabelle.

“You are welcome, and thank you. It was not as hard of a day as I expected. You helped me keep my mind off things,” she said as she put her hand on my arm.

We decided that after we ate, we would drink hot chocolate by the fire. I knew what I wanted to give her as a present.

There was a twinkle in her eyes that night—so much so that they enchanted me more than usual. My love for her had only increased since she had arrived.

There was a moment where we locked eyes. I had never looked so deeply into anyone’s eyes before. My heart again pounded, my palms began to sweat, and a lump formed in my throat as the frog danced in my stomach.

Once we broke our gaze, she looked down toward her plate. I could tell that she was red from blushing, which she attempted to hide. During this whole time, her hand was still on my arm. Then she slowly removed it.

After she finished her meal, we sat on the couch with our cups of hot chocolate. Again Mirabelle was sitting very close to me, which made me extremely nervous but excited at the same time. As we sat, we enjoyed the beauty of the tree and the warmth of the fire.

“There is something that I want to show you.” I gave her my hand.

“Oh, really? Okay!” She smiled as she took hold of my hand, not even giving it a second thought.

We walked out of the dining room, and the Invisibles helped us walk to my bedroom.

We walked hand in hand up the stairs to my room. I looked at her, and she looked back as her intoxicating smile appeared.

“Okay, so this is my gift to you. It means more to me than I can tell you, but I know that you will love it just the same,” I explained.

“Do you need me to shut my eyes again?” She smiled and raised one eyebrow.

“Only if you want.”

She nodded and shut her eyes immediately.

I proceeded to lead her into my room.

“Okay, I want to tell you something before you open your eyes.”

“I am listening,” she responded, still with her eyes shut.

“You asked earlier about the rose your father brought from my castle, and I have told you a little about that. As I said, before my parents left on the night of my birthday, Mother brought the roses from the dining table into my room. Whenever I am around them, I forget about all the bad things going on and am joyful and content,” I said. “Okay, Mirabelle, go ahead and open your eyes.”

The second she made eye contact with the enchanted roses, her eyes widened and she gasped in wonder and amazement.

“Oh my word! Beast, these roses are incredible; they are so captivating. More beautiful than I remember!

“I understand now why you were upset. This was the last part of your parents that stayed alive. Not even the roses around our house come close to these. Thank you for showing them to me.” She turned to me.

“I am not only showing them to you; I am giving them to you, in a way.”

“Oh no, Beast! I cannot take these precious things away from you! They are the last memory of your mother!”

“What I mean is that you are allowed to come see them whenever you want. I know that you have a love of roses, which is why I wanted to give them to you.”

“I do not know what to say. That is the sweetest thing anyone has done for me.” She wrapped her arms around me, hugging me more intimately than ever before.

Anytime we came in contact, I felt electricity—something I had never experienced ever before.

As she loosened her grip on our intimate hug, she kissed my cheek. Again!

The second she began to move her face toward mine, my whole body suddenly tensed up, and I shut my eyes as tightly as I could.

I was not sure why I did this, maybe because I was nervous or caught off guard, but it was not what I wanted to do. My cheek was probably as stiff as a board, almost showing that I was uninterested, which was completely the opposite of the truth!

As she pulled away, she snuggled against me once again, with her head on my shoulder and her shoulder under my armpit. It was not until then that I realized I was holding my breath. I attempted to nonchalantly let out the air.

“Mirabelle?” I whispered as I exhaled.

“Yes, Beast?” she said, turning her face toward me.

“Will you marry me?” I asked, looking into her eyes.

“I am sorry,” she said, shaking her head.

But, again, she did not leave immediately. We spent the rest of the night cuddling together on the couch with Buttons.

Chapter 14

W
inter was coming to an end, and the temperature began to rise. It was not quite spring yet, but it was going to be in a few weeks or so.

There were fewer snowstorms but more thunder-and-lightning storms. When these happened, we would sit on the dining-room couch by the fire and talk.

The more we spoke and spent time together, the more I fell in love with her.

Every night, before she left to go into her room, I asked if she would marry me. Her answer was always “I am sorry, Beast.” I could not help but think that she was either resisting her feelings for me or being friendly so that I would let her leave and go back home.

Was it manipulation or sincere?
Fear began to well up inside me, and feelings of guilt, stupidity, and foolishness rushed through my mind. But there still was a chance of her being sincere; I could not give up no matter how slim of a chance it was.

As usual, I met her at her bedroom door to walk with her to breakfast.

“Good morning, Mirabelle.” I bowed.

“Morning, Beast,” she replied with a curtsy.

Once in the dining room, we both sat at the table.

“How did you sleep last night, lovely?” I asked.

“I slept well, thank you.” She smiled.

As I looked at her, it seemed as if she knew something that I did not. Whenever she looked up from her meal, I would change where my eyes were looking. She caught me staring at her a few times and snickered.

“What are you doing?” she finally said while laughing, playfully smacking her hand on the table. This made her glass shake, and the silverware clanked together.

“Can I not just look at you?” I said without missing a beat.

She then squinted her eyes at me with a grin on her lips. Her cute little nose wrinkled.

“I am watching you, Beast,” she said in a stern tone, but she was smirking.

“Oh no, I am so scared,” I joked.

“You better be!” she told me with a serious, taunting look on her face.

She was very witty and always knew how to respond; she was always on her toes. Mirabelle said that it was because of her brother, Lanelin. He had played tricks on her and ragged on her all the time when they were young.

This day, instead of going into the library after breakfast, we walked outside to be around her horse.

She left my side to go saddle him up. When she brought him out, he did not like the sight of me and began to rear up. In that moment, I became afraid that he would never be okay around me.

Once she led him farther out into the yard, he calmed down. I stood where I had left off last time, and Mirabelle glanced over at me from time to time. When she did this, I thought that I saw her blush.

After she finished riding him, we walked into the castle for her lunch. Again she asked me to join her while she ate her lunch. She had done this for months by that time.

When she finished eating, we parted ways. I was not sure where she was headed to, but I walked to the music room.

It had been a while since I had played the piano. But the last few times I had played in there, I kept thinking that someone was watching me. Also, I thought that I heard creaking from the floorboards, as if someone were standing in the doorway. This time I was determined to find out what it was.

When I entered the room, Buttons was on the piano bench, waiting for me. As I walked over to him, he stood up, stretching his back and meowing. Once I sat next to him, he walked to me and then lay in my lap. I began petting him for a while.

As I sat on the bench, staring at the ivory and black keys, I realized that I still had not played the piano in the ballroom. Even though I wanted to so badly, I just could not make myself walk into the ballroom. In a way, it was almost as if I were still waiting for Mother to tell me I could.

I shut my eyes as I began to play. The feeling of being watched came over me.

I slowly opened one of my eyes and looked out the corner of my eye. The floor squeaked. But unlike the other times, I continued to play, pretending to ignore it.

The feeling disappeared, but it came back again. I finally stopped playing and had a staring contest with the keys.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something quickly move. I hesitated to do anything right away. I waited for a while before I began to play again.

Once I finished playing, the sun was setting, so I walked to meet Mirabelle in the dining room. When I arrived, Mirabelle looked as if she were out of breath; she was standing over by the fire. Her chest was rapidly moving up and down as if she were catching her breath after running. In that moment, I realized what I had seen.

We made our way from the different sides of the room over to the table. I helped her into her chair before I sat down myself.

“So, Mirabelle, what did you do after lunch today?” I asked her, already knowing the answer.

“Oh, I went, uh, to the library. I wanted to read,” she stuttered as she thought about what to say.

“What book did you read?”

“Uh …”

She scanned the room, searching for something as her brow began to glisten. In that second, I knew that I had stumped her, so I folded my arms across my broad chest and shook my head.

“Any good books on pianos?” I asked slyly.

“Okay, you caught me,” she admitted. “I did not know that you were able to play the piano, let alone play it so exceptionally for—”

“For a beast,” I interrupted, looking at the blue tablecloth and playing with the edges as I had when I was younger when I was discouraged.

“No, not for a beast. For anyone.” She placed her hand on my arm.

This comment caught me off guard. My head shot up so quickly that my neck made a cracking sound.

“Well, I have been playing for a very long time. Besides those roses, the piano was the only other thing that would take my mind off of reality, even if only for a short time.”

“There were a few songs that you played constantly—what were they?” she asked, tilting her head to the right.

“I actually made up almost all of the songs I usually play.”

“Truly?”

I nodded.

“I do not think I have heard songs as lovely as those before,” she stated.

“How long have you been watching me play?”

“Today?”

“No, when was the first time you watched me play the piano?”

“A few days after I came here,” she admitted.

“Why did you not tell me you were listening?” I asked her.

“I do not know. I guess I did not want to bother you or make you feel uncomfortable or invade your personal place of solitude.”

“Invade my space? What do you mean?” I said.

“I mean I did not want to be somewhere you would not want me to be.”