A Tale of Beauty and Beast: A Retelling of Beauty and the Beast (Beyond the Four Kingdoms #2)

Every now and then I would ask him about my ball, but I mostly did it to tease him. I suspected he kept putting off setting a day for it because he didn’t like dancing and knew I would have no one else to dance with.

When Dominic had business to attend to, I spent time in the kitchens, just listening to the servants going about their day, or I continued my tour of the castle with Gordon. Despite my explorations, I could find no further information on the curse, and—incredibly, unbelievably—I might have begun to feel complacent about my life here if it were not for two things.

The first was the niggling emptiness always present in the back of my mind. The place usually occupied by my awareness of my sister. Somehow, as the days progressed, it never seemed the right moment to ask to visit Dominic’s bedchamber, and so I had not even seen her for many weeks. I knew that no matter how comfortable I became, I would never fully adjust to a life without my sister.

The second was a change I began to observe in the servants. An underlying tension started to permeate the castle, and I often heard snippets of cut off conversations that reminded me of Connor’s comments from before my birthday. Time was running out.

Every question about their meaning, however, no matter how direct, was deflected. Even Gordon remained quiet on the subject. After overhearing several comments, I tried asking Dominic, but he shrugged it off as some nonsense of the servants. I couldn’t help questioning his disinterest and dismissal, but I didn’t want to break the trust we were building by calling him a liar.

He had returned to asking me every night if I would marry him in the morning, and I still said no. But he had started bringing me a rose from the garden each evening and presenting it with his question. And despite my refusal, I accepted the flower. It sat in a thin vase beside my bed, and every night I saw it as I drifted off to sleep and as I awoke, its perfume flavoring my dreams. I told myself I accepted it because I did not wish to see such beautiful blooms go to waste.

But gradually this predictable life began to change. Looking back, I realized that it was a month after my birthday when Dominic and I first began to notice a change in the weather. At first, we merely commented to each other on the pleasantness of the conditions as we walked and rode. The balmy days seemed almost idyllic among the wintry landscape, and we noted it only as an enjoyable variation. It wasn’t until a week later that I noticed, with shock, a wilted flower. It was the first blemish I had seen in this magical garden.

Two days later I rode along the orange grove and saw that all of the fruit and many of the blossoms had fallen to the ground. Several days after that we were riding through mud, the melting snow turning the ground into a churning brown pit that splattered across the stomachs and flanks of the horses. One of the stable boys groaned when we returned them, and I could sympathize with his sentiment.

Soon most of the plants in the garden had wilted and withered. And yet, even now they didn’t look natural. Impossibly, they had taken on a bleached look as if wilted by the summer heat rather than killed off by frost. Each day the weather grew warmer, too, as if the castle and grounds were returning to the proper late summer season. Only the rose garden seemed untouched, the melting snow doing nothing but making the ground there damp and springy.

Dominic and the servants all professed astonishment at the change, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone knew something they were carefully avoiding telling me. Was this what the servants were referring to when they talked about time running out? Did this signify the enchantment around the castle was breaking down and, if so, what did it mean for us all? I only hoped we weren’t going to be left unprotected against the wolves.

Dominic told me repeatedly that I had nothing to fear, but considering he also claimed not to understand the change in the state of the grounds, it was hard to take his assurances seriously. And yet, when I was actually in his presence, I found it almost impossible to be afraid.

Although the mud soon dried, we began to limit ourselves to the rose garden, the only part of the garden that still retained its old vibrancy. As I walked there one morning, the wolves once again crept through my mind, and I looked up, almost reflexively, to be calmed by the sight of Dominic beside me. But I could see only the top of his head, several rows of bushes away. He must have wandered off to look at something while I was distracted.

I took a single step toward him when a strong arm encircled my waist, jerking me backwards. A hand clamped down over my mouth. I struggled wildly against the unexpected restraint, my mind racing. None of the servants were capable of grabbing me in such a manner.

As my unknown assailant dragged me backwards, I kicked at his legs and tried to wrench my arms free. Nothing I did broke the iron hold around me. I tried to bite at his hand, but couldn’t get a good grip. My attempts to scream for help came out so muffled as to be almost inaudible.

Terror coursed through me at the unexpected attack, all sorts of horrible scenarios running through my mind. I tried to think of anything I had ever been told about escaping such a hold, but nothing I tried worked.

A sudden roar broke through the air. I went limp with relief, and a moment later was pulled from my captor’s hands and shoved into the safety of a bush. For a moment, all I could see was green foliage as my ears filled with the sounds of a scuffle.

The arms of the shrub proved less challenging than the arms of my assailant, and I managed to fight my way free to face the source of the chaos. The sounds of struggle had died away, and only the low rumble of Dominic’s growl remained.

The man he gripped looked small in comparison to the hulking prince, so it took me a moment to recognize him. When I finally did, I gasped. Dominic’s hands tightened at the sound, his prisoner wincing.

You recognize him?

I nodded. “It’s Cole.” I had long ago confided my fears about the escaped nobleman’s son to Dominic and told him what I had seen in the mirror. It had just never occurred to me to fear for myself.

“I don’t understand, how did he get here?”

And more importantly, what was he trying to do to you? I had never seen such a deadly expression on Dominic’s face, and I shivered.

“Princess Sophie! Please!” Cole’s face looked confused and a little desperate, but less calculating than I had remembered. “I meant you no harm. I came here to rescue you.”

By abducting you? Dominic’s low background growl rose in intensity as he shook the other man, who seemed powerless to resist the prince’s strength.

“Stop!” I held up my hand, glaring at Dominic until he stilled. “I won’t have you shaking him senseless or losing your temper and killing him or something.” Cole paled at my words. “You have him in custody, and now he must be secured somewhere. Do you have a prison cell of some sort here at the castle?”

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