But then my eyes dropped to his fangs, and I remembered. It was I who needed to be freed. This Beast had plucked me from my family, cut off my contact with them, isolated me completely, and now even attempted to physically restrain me.
I stepped down hard on his foot, wrenching my arms from his grip at the same time. Shock crossed his face, and I didn’t wait for him to regain his balance. Picking up my skirts I fled from the room as fast as I could run.
Chapter 6
I dived into my bed almost as fast as I had done the night before. The chest of drawers again blocked the door, and I had abandoned the gown in a crumpled mess on the floor. The lights had led my way, this time with the whispers swirling around me as well. They had died out into silence now, but I had taken some small comfort from their earlier presence.
I tried to tell myself I was not alone, but I didn’t really believe it. I was more alone than I had ever imagined being. I had tried to be brave, but I had failed. I acknowledged now that it had been hunger, not bravery or strategy, that had driven me to dinner. And without my twin to back me up and support me, I had lost my courage.
She had always led us, and I had always been content to let her. Content because I knew that in truth she needed me as much as I needed her. The thought brought a fresh bout of tears. How was Lily coping back in Marin, as cut off from me as I was from her?
But she had Jon now, and a new place in this foreign land as the future duchess of Marin. I had seen a new strength grow in her throughout the Tourney, I had even used it to fuel my own resolve. But now that she was stripped away from me, I saw that it was not enough. Alone I was weak, when all I wanted was to be strong.
For the second night, my tears soaked my pillow, and I could not will them to stop. Eventually, exhausted from my long day, I slipped into slumber.
Once again, I was woken by the sunlight, my curtains still open from the day before. But unlike the previous morning, I didn’t have to fight back tears. Apparently, I had finally cried myself out. Or perhaps I was merely distracted by a thought. A thread that had woven its way through my restless dreams.
I struggled now to capture it, certain of its importance. I had been haunted all night by the growls and roars and deafening silence of my betrothed. But also by his haunting eyes, pleading with me. And I had been sure of something in my sleep—a realization that I could no longer recall.
It took me at least a minute to chase it down, the revelation finally bursting through my mind. My betrothed growled and snarled and roared like an animal, his mouth misshapen to fit beast-like fangs. What if it was not rudeness that drove his silence? What if he was actually unable to speak?
I lay in bed for some minutes considering the idea from all angles. The more I thought about it, the more obvious it seemed, and I began to feel embarrassed for not seeing it before. His notes and his pleading eyes suddenly made sense. I sat up in bed, the new knowledge driving away any lingering melancholy. A new challenge had presented itself, and I felt glad for the distraction.
I slipped out of bed, weighing possible means of communication, but paused. A new note had been slipped under the door while I slept. I rushed over to swoop it up, elated by my new understanding. Surely this was a letter from the prince, explaining his incapacity and apologizing for his behavior since my arrival. Of course, I had already worked it out without his explanation, but he couldn’t be expected to know that.
But the glow of satisfaction died as soon as I opened the parchment and read the words inside. It could not, by any stretch of the imagination, be considered a letter. Instead it contained only a repeat of his demand from the day before.
You will join me for the evening meal.
I stared at it, rereading it three times before crumpling it up and flinging it into the embers of the fire. I had allowed my pleasure at solving the puzzle to blind me for a moment. The rudeness of his curt communications could not be blamed on his inability to speak. It came wholly from him. I should not have let myself forget I was dealing with a beast.
I dressed myself in a mood of righteous indignation. Would it really have been so hard to write me a proper letter? I struggled to imagine his clawed hand holding a pen but pushed the thought aside. However hard it might be for him, it could not compare to the trials I had been through in the Tourney. It had most likely been pride that held him back. He had not wanted to admit his limitations, and I felt sure he was not the sort to ever apologize.
I chewed my way through the food that had been laid out for me with more force than was necessary. I suspected that if I wanted an evening meal, I would have to eat it in his presence. And a part of me even relished the prospect. I would give him a piece of my mind and, if I was right, he would be entirely unable to answer back. I couldn’t resist a small grin at the thought. What girl hadn’t wished herself in such a position at some point or other?
And in the meantime, I had the whole day before me. Going higher hadn’t allowed me to bypass the wall blocking me from Lily, so I couldn’t imagine going underground would help. I glanced out the window and admitted to myself that at least some of this conclusion came from the fact that I had no desire to go searching for the dungeons.
The sun shone, despite the snow, and the open air called to me. Perhaps I needed to leave the boundaries of the castle. It might not be a wall so much as a barrier that blanketed this locality. In my anger and fear, I had assumed it was a specific block against me. But, in reality, that made no sense. No one even knew of our ability, so why would anyone plan against it?
One glance at the snow-filled garden, full of blossoming flowers and glossy fruit, was enough to see that this place existed outside the usual laws of nature. I was becoming increasingly convinced that whatever magic fueled this enchantment blocked my projections by chance. I would take Chestnut and ride far enough beyond the castle to test my theory. But not so far that I might lose my way back. I had not forgotten the conditions in the rest of this kingdom, nor the consequences to myself and my family if I tried to defy the ancient laws that bound my betrothal.
Glad for a purpose that would take me outside and into the company of my horse—currently my only friend—I hummed as I hurried my final preparations. I might be talking to Lily again within the hour.
Chestnut seemed happy to see me and eager for exercise. I easily found her saddle and fitted it quickly, glad my parents had made me learn how to care for my mount myself. I had been relieved to see no sign of the Beast, but confused to still discover no sign of anyone else either. Yet Chestnut’s straw was fresh and her coat recently groomed.