I kept my eyes on the ground. With only the feel of his arm beneath my fingers, his muscles hard and strong, it was easy to imagine the tall young man from the painting. Would I have been pleased when I saw his handsome face? Or scared by his hard expression? I could no more decide the answer to that question than I could understand my own emotions when his all-too-human eyes pierced me through.
When we reached the door, I looked up into his face and couldn’t help a start of shock at his beastly features. Whatever I might have thought of that prince, he was long gone. And if I wanted to break this betrothal, then I needed to outwit him. Which meant understanding the advantages he possessed.
“Will you let me see your magic mirror?” I asked him, abruptly.
His eyes narrowed. The mirror is only for use by members of the royal family. If you wish to see it, you need only consent to our wedding taking place immediately. Will you marry me in the morning, Sophie?
I flinched back, berating myself for being once again surprised by his apparently inevitable question. “Don’t call me that!” I snapped unthinkingly.
He raised an eyebrow. By your name, you mean? I thought you said Sophie was your preference. What would you have me call you instead?
I flushed at having revealed myself in such a way. “Never mind,” I mumbled. “Forget I said anything.” I hurried out the door, not looking at him as he held it politely open.
I had wished for him to learn some manners, but they fit so uncomfortably on him that it didn’t help. He remained an otherworldly creature, out of place in my life, and impossible to imagine as my future husband.
Chapter 12
My sleep was fitful, disturbed by visions of a handsome prince with piercing blue eyes who looked down into an elaborate handheld mirror reflecting an image of me tossing and turning in my bed. Every time I woke, I found myself in a cold sweat, clutching my blankets around my neck.
As the hours passed, a new thought crept into my mind. I couldn’t believe it had taken so long to occur to me. If the mirror could be used only by royals, and only to see your own people, would it not be possible for it to show me Lily? I might not be able to use it to communicate with her, but I could at least reassure myself of her safety.
But the Beast had already refused to let me see it. And if he considered it a bargaining chip, something to use to pressure me into agreeing to our wedding, I would never convince him to change his mind. Which meant I needed to find it on my own.
By the time the sun rose, I had given up on sleep entirely and was busy planning. After his attempt to bar me from his wing of the palace, I felt sure I would find the mirror there. But I would need to ensure that the Beast himself was absent before beginning my search. I hadn’t seen him wandering around the palace except for when he had found me in his wing. I suspected he spent most of his time there.
The only other place I had seen him outside of meals was with his stallion. And Matthew, the stable master, seemed to have a privileged position with him. I would wait until he went to visit his stallion, and then I would find the mirror and finally see Lily.
I could see the corner of the stable building from my window, but I would need a clearer view to ensure I didn’t miss his arrival. Which meant finding a better position somewhere in the castle. I tried to remember the many rooms I had visited on that side of the building.
Hours later I wistfully watched the sun shining on the flowers and reflecting from the snow. I still hadn’t explored the gardens, and they looked much more appealing than the hard seat I had managed to drag over to the window of the unused chamber. But I didn’t want to miss the Beast leaving the castle. I thought of my sister, and the emptiness in my mind without her familiar presence. It would all be worth it if I could get even a glimpse of her and be sure she was well.
As the angle of the sun crept around and the warm rays shone directly onto me, I found it hard to keep my eyes open and my mind alert. My lids kept drifting shut, my bad night’s sleep catching up with me. I eyed the dusty bed longingly.
I had asked Lottie to deliver a midday meal to me here, carefully putting in the request when Tara wasn’t around, to ensure I wouldn’t be questioned for wishing to spend the day in a random, unused bedchamber. But even the food failed to completely dispel the sleepiness.
I had just finished pacing the length of the room to stay awake, when I returned to the window and noticed movement. Instantly all fatigue dropped away, energy coursing through me at the sight of the Beast’s bulky frame striding toward the stables. I forced myself to wait until he had disappeared inside.
As soon as I was sure he had gone to visit his stallion, I raced from the room, my feet flying as I headed straight for the Beast’s wing. As I twisted and turned through the castle, I felt proud of myself for remembering Gordon’s tour. All of the corridors looked the same, and it made navigation difficult for anyone who had not grown up familiar with the building. I would have to arrange to have some tapestries hung and statues placed in available niches.
I had taken two more turns and was passing the portrait gallery when it occurred to me that for an unthinking moment I had been considering myself the actual mistress of this castle. Planning improvements to it for when I might host guests here. I shook myself. I could not allow myself to be lulled into forgetting this was a large prison, not a home.
I didn’t slow as I raced past the door to the gallery. In the many hours since I had first conceived of this plan, I had considered all the options. The gallery hadn’t contained any pieces of furniture—in fact there had been no place where a mirror could have been hidden. Instead I had become increasingly convinced that the only place the Beast would keep such a valuable magical object was his own chambers.
When I reached the door that Gordon had called forbidden, I stopped. I had accused the Beast, either aloud or in my mind, of almost every crime. And yet, only yesterday, I had assured him I would not enter his rooms, and today, here I was. I shook my head. The normal rules did not apply when a monster kept you prisoner in his home.
I pushed open the door.
I didn’t know what I had been expecting, but it had almost certainly involved darkness and gloom. And probably dirt, since Gordon had said even the servants were barred from these rooms. But the Beast’s chambers were large and surprisingly airy, filled with solid oak furniture, worn silken with age. The stone floor was covered with overlapping rugs of deep red and gold, and I could see no sign of filth or neglect.
I couldn’t help crossing over to the large windows in his bedchamber, noting his extensive view which included most of the gardens and the stables. This would have been the ideal viewpoint for my morning’s observations, except for the obvious issue. As I watched, the Beast appeared astride his black horse, walking toward an open field on the far side of the gardens.