We met half an hour later in the entrance hall, and the prince offered me his arm. I accepted it, remembering the only other time we had walked that way. So much had changed between us since then. I had spent so many hours gazing at him on his sick bed that his features no longer shocked me, for one. And for another, I had discovered that we unexpectedly shared some interests—I would never have predicted he could love gardens as I did.
But some things had not changed. He still asked me every evening if I would marry him the next morning, a question that had started to seem more ridiculous than insulting while he lay ill in bed.
The Beast walked slowly, his breath more labored than usual, but he did not lean on me. I marveled at the strength that had allowed such a quick recovery after such significant wounds and such a prolonged illness.
He led the way, and I followed silently, both of us apparently happy just to be free from the sick room. When we turned the corner of a tall hedge, I gasped. He looked down at me with a look of satisfaction. It is beautiful is it not? I thought you might like to see it, since you mentioned that you love roses.
I dropped his arm and ran forward, both hands pressed against my heart. The rose garden, which I had previously only glimpsed from afar, was unlike any I had seen before. Snow covered the ground, as it did everywhere in the castle grounds, and the deep colors of the roses stood out against the stark white. The bushes had been arranged in two concentric spirals, twisting around each other without touching, leading me deeper and deeper into the roses until they entwined in the center. On one of the spirals, the roses darkened as it coiled inward, on the other they lightened, so that in the center, brilliant crimson blossoms coiled around pure white ones.
I stood staring at them, overwhelmed by the beauty of the design and the color of the roses, complimented by the dark green of the leaves and stems and set against such a pristine backdrop. I heard the Beast approach more slowly behind me.
So, you like them?
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. Truly.”
My mother designed it many years ago, when my grandfather was still alive, and my father was the crown prince. She was fascinated by the tower staircases.
I watched him out of the corner of my eye. So, the roses reminded him of his mother, then. Did he have the same feeling of comfort and security here in the garden that I felt inside a library?
“They are very beautiful,” I repeated, not knowing how to put my feelings into words.
We strolled slowly from bush to bush, and the Beast told me the names of the different species, many of them ones I had never encountered before. My head gardener here is very skilled. He has adapted remarkably well to the…unusual conditions.
I snorted. Unusual conditions, indeed.
Rather than growing more tired, the Beast seemed to be energized by the walk and the cold air. His stride grew surer and his breathing easier. He looked incongruous amid the beauty of the garden. A monster who had wandered from his territory.
Looking at him standing there among the roses, I had a sudden flashback to my time in the carriage traveling here. I had been unable to imagine the Beast surrounded by flowers, and yet here he was. What would I have thought if I had known then what I knew now?
He looked back at me quizzically, and I shrugged at him.
We can come again tomorrow, if you’d like.
“I would like that, very much,” I said, surprising myself by the truth of my words.
We went to the rose garden every day for two weeks, and every day the Beast gained strength. He still had not thanked me for nursing him, or keeping him company, but sometimes I thought I could read gratitude in his eyes. He had become almost mellow as a patient, although the servants reported that he was more restless whenever I was gone. I was merely relieved that he had stopped haranguing them constantly.
By the end of the second week he seemed back to full health, and I marveled at his recuperative powers. Lily would have found him a fascinating patient, I was sure. I mentioned it to Henshaw, but he said the prince had always been like that, even as a young boy. Hearing that made me even more impressed since I had assumed it was a side effect of the curse.
We can all be glad of it, Henshaw had said. He might well not have made it if not for his strong constitution.
I longed to ask him why that would be such a terrible thing for the servants, but couldn’t think of a way to phrase it that didn’t sound awful.
As the Beast regained his physical strength, I had been afraid he would also resume the full force of his arrogance, but on the day that Henshaw declared him able to return to regular activity, he seemed unusually genial.
Eventually I couldn’t resist commenting on it. “Should I ask Henshaw to give you another examination?”
What do you mean?
“I think that was your second joke. Have you ever joked before…in your life? Maybe your fever has returned.”
The Beast growled, somehow turning the sound playful, and bent over a rose bush.
“What are you doing?” I asked, warily.
He glanced up at me, and I realized he had pulled the bush back and was about to release it, catapulting the snow covering it in my direction.
“Oh no. Oh no, you don’t.” I backed up, almost tripping in my hurry.
He grinned at me, exposing his fangs, as he took time to draw it even further back. I squealed and ran for it, my skirts tangling around my legs in my hurry. I didn’t quite make it around one of the bushes when icy shards exploded across my back, some of them managing to slip down the back of my neck.
I groaned and whipped the rest of the way out of sight in case he had a second bush already prepared.
You can’t hide forever, he taunted, a laugh sounding in his voice. You’re surrounded by snow covered bushes on every side.
“But I can hide a pretty long time,” I called back, before creeping behind a different bush. I peered through the leaves, and when he strode over to where I had disappeared, I quickly wove through another two bushes, keeping myself out of sight.
He didn’t seem to be in any hurry, and after watching him for a moment from behind yet another bush, I realized he was following my footprints. I grabbed a whole armful of snow and began to run, crouched low so as to stay out of sight. I used the spirals of the garden to curve back around and come up behind him.
I must have made enough noise to give myself away because he began to turn. But before he could get fully around, I flung my snow into the air, dumping it over his head. He growled and shook himself, ice flying in all directions, but enough of it stuck to his hair to start dripping down his neck. I crowed in triumph.
He looked over at me, his eyes narrowing. Oh ho! You think you just won, don’t you?
I saw his intentions in his eyes a moment too late. Scooping up a handful of snow, he grabbed my arm and pulled me close. Taking his time, he placed the ice on my head and began to crush it into my hair.
I squealed again. “Dominic!”
He froze, a look of shock crossing his face, and then he dropped his hand, allowing most of the snow to fall away. A single icy trickle down my back made me shiver, and he grabbed my other arm and pulled me closer to him, as if to warm me.