Part 5
The next morning, Raul waited at the top of the stairs. He'd left her breakfast in front of the fire in the Great Hall, along with a note, painstakingly inscribed in ink-blotted letters with his own claw: Tu est belle. You are beautiful. He'd had quite enough of Charmaine's complaining lately. He figured a small compliment might go a long way to boosting her mood. He sat absolutely still, waiting and listening for any little sound she might make. He didn't have to wait long.
Raul heard Charmaine talking to herself, as she had gotten in the habit of doing, and he heard the dishes clinking together. He listened to the skirts swish as she walked the width of the room--and then he heard her choke out a sob. Her pitiful wails resounded through the empty halls, and Raul dared to creep down to the floor to see what was the matter.
He found Charmaine standing in front of the massive mirror hanging in the hallway outside the Great Hall. She was holding her face and crying, the tears pouring freely down her face.
"I can never go back to the city!" she wept, "not like THIS!" She grasped at the scars on her cheek and arm, where Raul himself had scratched her. "They'll never accept me now! Not even Felice would so much as recognize me!"
Raul felt a surge of compassion, and he saw the note he'd written, tossed aside in the Great Hall. Using another door so as not to disturb her too much, he entered the Hall and picked up the note, approaching slowly and offering the note a second time, as if to reiterate its meaning.
Charmaine only wept harder. "Get away from me!" she shrieked, reeling backward. "I told you I never wanted to see you! What's the point of your stupid note, anyway? You think flattery is going to make me like you? You think for one moment I'm going to ignore this terrifying face in front of me, because somehow I'm going to realize there beats a noble heart underneath the matted fur and the—ugh!" she covered her face. "The stench? We've read the same fairy-tales, Beast! This?" She plucked the note from his claw with the very tips of her fingers and tore it right down the middle. "This is only a ploy to get me to undo the spell!" she tossed the pieces aside, and Raul felt their weight as they crashed to the ground, taking his hopes with them. "I know what you want! You only want to be handsome again--but what about me? Even if I did break the spell, you'd be human--but I'd still be ugly, thanks to you! How is that even fair?" She resumed crying, and ran away from him down the hall to the second stairwell, leaving Raul behind in the darkness with only tattered shreds of a note beside him.
She continued her tantrum up into the first bedroom she saw, where she all but tore the dress off in a fit of anger, and threw herself upon the bed, dressed only in the chemise and petticoats. There she cried until she had no more tears, and her face had swollen considerably, and her whole body felt worn and tired. Charmaine slipped off into a troubled slumber, filled with dreams of people she knew, ones she once considered friends, pointing and laughing at her, despising her ugliness as much as she despised the appearance of the Beast. She tossed and turned, shivering as the lengthening shadows and heavy clouds brought great gusts of frigid wind through the holes and gaps in the masonry--and then she awoke to the feeling of warmth, softness, and security.
Charmaine peeled her eyes open. The tears had made her eyelids sticky, but once her eyes adjusted to the half-light of evening, she found that while she had cast herself half-undressed on the bed, someone--or something--had spread over her a thick, soft blanket. It had velvet on one side, and a luxurious pelt on the other. She moved to leave the bed with the blanket wrapped around her, and she found a pair of slippers waiting for her. She padded out into the hallway. Everything was deathly still.
"Beast?" she called, but the only thing she heard was the echo of her own voice. She traveled down the stairs to the ground floor. She could hear the crackling fire in the Great Hall--had he lit another one? A few paces more, and she could smell all sorts of savory seasonings, that at once made her mouth water and her stomach grumble in longing.
In front of the fire, the Beast had set a small table. A pot of stew rested on a warmer filled with coals from the fire. Charmaine lifted the lid to release a cloud of steam, as the Beast hadn't been there for a while, yet everything was still warm for her. She ladled some into the bowl, and saw beside it a second note, very similar in composition to the first.
Tu est belle.
Charmaine huffed. "I suppose he could mean it as a sort of apology for frightening me so badly this morning!" She didn't rip the note up this time, but set it aside as she happily consumed the delicious stew.
About an hour later, the fire had settled somewhat, the stew was long since gone, and Charmaine didn't know what to do with herself. She stood, gathering the thick blanket around her, and trudged up to the room full of dresses, but after wandering among the many wardrobes and chests till her cold feet ached and her knees felt wobbly without seeing anything that renewed her interest, she finally settled on a plain blue day dress, and a pair of flat black slippers. She slipped a comb into her hair to hold it up, and left the room without even glancing at the bank of gilded mirrors. She wandered down to the parlor and sat in an armchair, waiting to hear the familiar grunting and scratching that the Beast Prince made any time he moved.
Instead, the whole castle held so still, Charmaine could almost hear her own heartbeat. She slumped in the chair, letting her arms flop in a most ungainly manner. As the clock chimed the next hour, the young debutante found herself in the uncomfortable position of having to admit that she, a prisoner detained against her will, a damsel in much distress through circumstances forced upon her--was unimaginably bored. She mused to herself that she would almost be willing to start reading the books in the castle library--dusty, dull, outdated things! Charmaine wagged her head and rubbed her temples. Had she really become so resigned to her fate that she wouldn't dream of trying to escape? Where had the Beast gone? When would he return?
She sat in that chair, drowsing off a little, listening to the clock on the mantel tick away the minutes in this large, silent room...
And then she heard the screaming.
It made all of her hairs stand on end, the piteous wails No! Let me go! Put me down! No! Stop! Please!
Charmaine leaped to her feet and ran out of the parlor to the open atrium. In the distance, she could see the Beast returning with a bundle of something slung over his shoulder--the one that was wailing and shrieking. Her heartbeat quickened and she scurried into her usual spot, the sofa in front of the fire in the Great Hall. Had he claimed another victim because she had refused to break his spell? What did that mean for her then? Would the two of them spend the remainder of their days in the custody of the Beast until the curse became permanent, or one of them eventually caved? It certainly didn't sound like this new person would be any more willing than Charmaine had been.
She heard the heavy, huffing breath, the hideous claws scraping along the marble floor, but she couldn't hear the screams anymore, not even a whimper. Charmaine heard the grunts and scrapes shift closer. They echoed in the Great Hall now--the Beast had entered the same room she was in. Charmaine hardly dared, very slowly, to turn and see what he was doing. He had the bundle over his shoulder still, and he let the body slide down to the floor near Charmaine's couch. He grunted and bobbed his head--was he bowing? she wondered--and left the room.
As the sounds of the Beast died down, Charmaine saw the person huddled on the floor begin to tremble all over, and resume the sounds of soft crying. She darted from the sofa to help the person up.
Under a thick grey cloak that might have been familiar, she saw a dress of tiny red flowers on a blue field, and as the head came up, Charmaine gasped.
"Felice?" she choked.
The young brunette stared with wide, unblinking eyes. Charmaine felt the carefully-manicured fingernails digging into the skin of her arm. "Ouch! Felice, you're hurting me!" Her friend began to twitch and spasm, trembling all over, and it was all Charmaine could do to ease the young woman upright. "Felice," she urged. "It's me, Charmaine--don't you remember me?"
"Reme--mem-member?" Felice stuttered. She gave a little cry as Charmaine eased her into a sitting position on the couch. "Oh! Charmaine, is it really you?"
The young woman frowned. This was hardly the reception she was hoping for, seeing someone from her old life after nearly a week and a half in the lair of the Beast Prince! "Of course it's me!"
"Oh Charmaine!" Felice gushed again. "Your poor father has just been beside himself ever since you left! Your absence took all life and color out of him--not two days passed, and he was quite convinced that the Beast had already torn you to shreds, and we would never see you again!"
Charmaine felt her cheeks burn at the mention of her father. "Yes, well--if he really was as sorry as all that, he might at least come out to try and find me, and see that the Beast has done nothing of the sort." She reached out to run her fingers over the fine fabric of her friend's skirt.
"Charmaine!" Felice grabbed her hand. "Have you actually fallen in love with him, then? Or maybe he's in love with you--but why hasn't it broken the curse?"
"The curse isn't broken because I don't love him!" Charmaine drew her and away and snapped. "Really, Felice--one would think you were blind not to notice that! If he was free of that curse, then why are we all still here in this crumbling, dusty ruin?"
Felice lifted her eyes and looked all around the room. "Oh..." she responded softly.
"Speaking of which," Charmaine peered at her friend closely. "What are you doing here? Did the Beast catch you in the forest trying to look for me?"
"In the forest!" Felice cried with just a hint of derision. "I should think I would expect to be attacked if I was foolish enough to go into the forest alone! But no--do you know what this Beast Prince of yours did? So there I was, making my way down the merchant lane--I was heading for Mrs. Basty's mercantile, you know how she always manages to get ahold of the latest fashions--when this monster bursts out of nowhere, takes one look at me and my friends, and just tosses me over his shoulder like a wagon boy with a heavy pack, and takes off back down the road! I was so terrified, Charmaine--I thought for sure something had happened to you, and he had chosen me for your replacement, and I'd suffer the same fate you had!"
Hearing this shocking account, all Charmaine could say was, "Oh, how dreadful." Inside, her thoughts and emotions were in a chaotic state, rushing and ebbing like a madly-boiling stew. How had the Beast known to target Felice alone? If he was worried about Charmaine having some sort of companionship--why Felice, and not just any girl in the city? Why would he risk getting blamed for an attack and being beaten or perhaps shot by the townspeople, charging out in public like that?
The answer came over her so suddenly, she blurted aloud, "Oh! He chose you because of me!"
Felice actually let her mouth drop open as she stared at her friend for several moments. "He what?"
Charmaine felt her cheeks warm again, though the sensation came with quite a different mix of emotions. "I was crying the other day because I missed you so much, and I started saying the things I missed about you, like your hair and your eyes and the way you dressed--he must have heard me! He knew what you looked like because I basically described you! Though," she frowned pitifully and ran her hand over the scars on her arm. "I confess I was fearful that you wouldn't even recognize me if you saw me, nor would you be able to stand looking at me anymore."
Felice pursed her lips and squinted. "What do you mean, I wouldn't want to look at you?"
Charmaine watched her friend to see if she was joking, or perhaps she really was blind as a bat. "Because of this, of course!" She gestured to the scars over her cheekbones. "I'm hideous!"
Felice raised her eyebrows. "I see a week and a half in a closet with nothing but a Beast for company hasn't changed you much. You are not hideous, my dear!"
Charmaine stuck out her lip in a pout. "I can't believe I've suffered like this, and you didn't even notice! For my very closest friend, Felice, you aren't very observant!"
The slim brunette raised an eyebrow. "Well, I can see that you're still very much alive, and--unless you're putting on an act for my benefit--in reasonably good health. So..." She cast her eyes around the room, taking in the sights of the small table in front of the fire and the empty dishes. By now, after nightfall, it was too dark to see much of anything else. "Tell me about it! What's it like living in this castle? Does the Beast really come out to howl at night? Does he kill animals during the day and bring them back here to feast upon their carcasses in the middle of the ballroom?"
"Felice!" Charmaine shrieked at the idea. "How could you say such things? Living here has been the worst kind of torture I've ever experienced! I'm all alone, the Beast is so smelly and so abominable that I can't stand to be around him, and he's done absolutely nothing to recommend himself to me!"
Felice spotted a scrap of paper sitting next to the bowl, and she picked it up to read it. Her eyebrows lifted when she read the simple message. She looked over at her friend with a meaningful glint in her eyes. "He brought me to you, didn't he?" she asked.
Charmaine rolled her eyes and petulantly draped herself over the arm of the couch. "You think he went and did that just because I said it? And what, I'm supposed to take that as an overture of affection from this monster?" She didn't let Felice respond, but steered the conversation onto another topic. "Anyway, enough about all that! Tell me what I've missed in the city, and don't spare any details! I want to hear everything!"
Felice heaved a long sigh, but she still held on to the paper, staring at it, tracing the lines over and over.
"Well, you haven't missed much--"
"What?" Charmaine sat up straight with a sigh. "Ten days, and you're telling me nothing has happened?"
Felice nodded, toying with the embroidered poppies on her skirt. "Well, yes."
"No parties? No festivals? No balls?"
"Not really--There's Helena Travis who is planning a soiree for next week, but beyond that..."
"Helena who?" Charmaine hit the arm-rest with her open hand. "I don't even know who that is! Aren't the Saliermanns throwing their extravagant gathering, the one with the fireworks and the dancers and--"
She faltered and stopped as Felice wagged her head.
"Not this year, I'm afraid. I haven't heard anything about it. Honestly, Charmaine, after you left, everything else... moved on."
"Moved on!" Charmaine squealed. "I get shipped up here, miles away from the city, my home, my friends, and you're telling me it's as if I never even left? No one's noticed? No one's cared?"
Felice drew a hand across her brow. "Well, not completely! Your father's been--"
"Don't tell me about my father!" Charmaine snapped. "It's his fault I'm up here, wasting away--"
"Excuse me?" Felice retorted, standing up and facing her friend. "Wasting away? With this rich food, a nice fire, and plenty of clothes and blankets? With someone who loves you?" She held the note in front of Charmaine's face.
Charmaine frowned and pushed it away, using her arms to cover her face so she didn't have to look at the crude scrawl. "Put that away, Felice. It doesn't mean what you think it means!"
Felice snorted. "I should think it does!" She insisted, dropping it in Charmaine's lap. "Can't you see that you've won the prince's heart? Goodness knows how you managed it, the way you are sometimes!"
"I've won nothing!" Charmaine bounded to her feet, staring defiantly into her friend's face. "He's not a prince anymore, Felice! He's still a beast, and a beast is incapable of love! These silly scraps of paper mean nothing to me!"
For several moments, the two erstwhile friends held their ground against each other, and nothing was heard except the occasional pop and crack of the fire.
Finally, Felice broke the stand-off. "If that's what you believe," she replied softly, "then he's not the only monster living under this roof. You're too shallow and wrapped up in your own feelings to realize when someone is actually being kind to you." She turned and picked up her cloak. "You know," she called over her shoulder, without turning all the way around, "Prince Raul might be a beast on the outside just now, but you're the real monster underneath all that beauty you carry on the outside!"
Charmaine felt the words like a dagger in her throat. She opened her mouth to speak, but it only released tears from her eyes. "How dare you!" she choked, "I don't think I miss you or anybody else in the city as much as I thought I did. You aren't welcome here anymore, Felice. You can stay here for the night, but tomorrow, I think it's best if you found your way home again. I don't want to see you."
Felice gathered her cloak around her and swept toward the doorway leading out of the Great Hall and to the stairwell. On the threshold she paused.
"Tu est belle," she quoted, the scorn lacing her voice. "What a pity he's wasted his care and concern on such an ungrateful wretch."
Charmaine waited until Felice had gone upstairs to find a bedroom to sleep in. She went to pick up the fur blanket, but the note tumbled out of it. As bitter tears trickled down her face, Charmaine left it on the cold floor in front of the dying fire and curled under the covers of the large bed to cry herself to sleep.
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