As I ate the first few mouthfuls of my evening meal, I looked around the large, mostly empty dining hall. The far end of it was shrouded in shadows, the servants not having bothered to light all the candles for just the two of us. Only the crackling of the fire and the sound of cutlery clinking provided any noise. When had this become my life?
I remembered relaxed and happy meals with my family, who always ate at least the morning meal together. Even boring state meals had been enlivened by Lily’s silent commentary. Many a time I had needed to suppress an oddly timed laugh after some humorous comment from my sister. Now I only fought to suppress discomfort, anger, and fear. And I could only imagine the state I would be in at this point if I hadn’t learned the means of communicating with the servants.
I continued to chew listlessly, unable to summon up my usual enthusiasm for the delicious food. “How do you do it?” I asked, putting down my fork at last. “How have you borne it, trapped here alone for years?”
The Beast looked at me, surprise etched across his face. He probably hadn’t expected me to initiate conversation after our confrontation in the portrait gallery.
I am not alone, he said. Not since my godmother made the servants visible to me. And in truth I have never been alone. His mental voice dropped almost to a whisper. Unlike my sister.
His sister? Curiosity burned, but I knew better than to ask for an explanation. I had barely eaten yet, it was too early in the meal for a conflict. I sighed. I shouldn’t have expected empathy from him. The Tourney had shown me his implacable and merciless nature with the way it had driven us on through the events, regardless of illness or injury. Plus, he wasn’t a prisoner here, as I was. He had chosen to retreat from the world.
I took several more bites, the resentment growing. Would it have been so hard for him to apologize? Even once? Was he truly without compassion of any sort?
“But what of your kingdom? You say it is not safe to travel outside the grounds, yet surely you must have some way to communicate with them?”
My royal carriage is safe, as you saw. I send it to my lords on occasion with letters and missives. And as for the rest of the time…well, they know I watch them. They would not dare step out of line.
That hadn’t been exactly what I meant, although I could easily imagine the nobles fearing a royal family led by King Nicolas and now a cursed beast. But my mind caught on his earlier comment. He watched them? From here?
“Do you have spies among your own people, then?”
Spies? No, of course not. How would they communicate with me if I did?
I flushed at the note of derision in his voice. “How do you watch them then, Beast? Locked away in your isolated castle?”
The wrinkle of confusion had returned to his brow, as if he were honestly confused by my comments rather than merely contemptuous. When he spoke, his words were slow. I brought my family’s mirror with me, of course. I would never have left it unattended in the capital.
“Your mirror?” I now felt completely lost, as if we were having two different conversations, each missing the other’s point entirely.
Yes. My family’s mirror. It is the oldest and most powerful of the royal mirrors.
I frowned at him, and a strange expression crossed his face. Does your family not possess a royal mirror? His tone turned thoughtful. I know the Marinese duke does not. Do not tell me you knew nothing of their existence?
“I have never heard of a royal mirror.” I hated having to admit my ignorance to such an arrogant person. “I take it you are referring to a magical object of some sort. I had understood magical objects to be extremely rare in these lands, given the disappearance of the godmothers so long ago.” Of course, if the Beast’s own claims were to be believed, there had been a godmother here not so long ago after all.
The royal mirrors are old beyond counting. They have been passed down from monarch to monarch in each kingdom for many generations. You truly had not heard of them?
“No.” I snapped the short word.
Then I regret mentioning it.
I ignored him. “What does this magical mirror do? Allow you to spy on your people?” It seemed a strange object for the godmothers to gift.
It allows the viewer to see and hear events taking place far from them, certainly. But the mirrors also form a network with communication possible between each of them, or all together. It allows the monarchs of all the kingdoms to speak together at will.
Now that sounded like a powerful and useful tool. “Why have you not used it to communicate with the rulers of the other kingdoms? You could tell them of the state of affairs in Palinar—ask for assistance.”
A soft growl rolled over me, seeming to escape from the Beast without his noticing. Palinar doesn’t need their help.
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. You need all the help you can get.”
A soft sound, almost like a sigh, slipped from the Beast’s mouth. I have received no communications since the curse fell. And any attempts to call outwards have reached only darkness.
Ah, that was the truth of it. The curse had cut off even magical communication. I considered his words some more.
“You can magically spy on anyone you like? Even the other rulers?” I could see lots of problems with such a situation.
Not everyone. There are limits. The mirror will only show you your own people. He watched my face. Do not be concerned. There are…limits…to what the mirror will show.
I tried not to let the relief show on my face. I had already been imagining the feeling of ghostly eyes on me at all times.
“So, you hole yourself up here, in your castle, and watch your kingdom from afar?” The disapproval was obvious in my tone, but I made no attempt to check it.
For now. He seemed impervious to my criticism.
We ate the rest of the meal in silence, my mind still considering all the ramifications of his revelation. When I had finished, I stood to my feet, proud to have made it through an entire meal with him.
He stood swiftly as well, stepping over to offer me his arm as if he meant to escort me to the door. I eyed it doubtfully but could think of no reason to refuse the uncharacteristically polite gesture from my betrothed. Had it been mere days ago that I had resolved never to let him touch me? It seemed an eternity ago.
Reluctantly I placed my hand in the crook of his arm. As we walked slowly to the door, I thought of the prince in the portrait. What if there had been no curse? What if I had come here to be his bride, traveling in a proper royal procession, Lily by my side?