Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 74631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
I did not want her choking on the perfume of roses filling her room. I did not want her too disturbed to rise from her bed. I did not want her to loathe or fear me.
The beast growls, feeling her despair even as he watches her through the mirror, through my eyes.
I have not gone to her room since the night the villagers attacked. The beast does not like this. He wants to intervene, to bring her back out into the castle, which is already feeling her absence. The dust is not yet collecting in the places it once was, but on the rare occasion I leave the mirror and walk the halls, they are growing more shadowed.
The magic echoes her agony, and I do not know how to stop it.
I only know how to share in her hate for what I’ve become and what I’ve done.
THE PRINCE AND THE BEAST
I’ve lost count of the number of days it has been when I finally break.
It has been my habit to let Elle determine the life she lives in the castle, so long as she stays obedient and does not try to leave. The first night I brought her here, I did go to bed with her. The beast had not been willing to accept anything else. He had been patient enough, carrying her through the woods without lying her down on the grass and having her then, and he could not be held at bay any longer.
In truth, neither could I. There had been too many years of solitude before Elle came through the gate in the wall and found the swing. I had not been able to touch a woman in so long, and from the first breath I took of the scent of her skin, I knew she was mine.
Every little detail of how we began consumes my waking thoughts. The details of how I lost her meet me when my eyes close and the terrors of that night return to haunt my dreams.
I made her mine, and that was no easy task. It was not easy to wait when I heard the words her father said to her. It was not easy to hang back, knowing that anything could happen to her in the village. It was not easy to have that patience, waiting until she was safe behind the castle walls to do what I wanted and what the beast demanded.
I waited, and I was rewarded with her submission.
Yes, she was afraid, and she was wary of me, but what did I give her other than pleasure? Surely I made up for her fear. Surely I did not turn out to be a fearsome creature of the night. It is I who brought her here and I who gave the magic my blessing to make her as comfortable as she can be.
And Elle cannot say she did not enjoy it. I saw her in the library all those many days. I know she delighted in having the kitchen prepare recipes for her. She was lighthearted, and as a result the castle became more serene as well.
I cannot watch her cry through the tarnished mirror in the tower for another moment.
I rise from my chair, the old wood creaking. The moment my eyes lose their focus on Elle, they land on my own reflection. After all these years I am used to the sight of the beast in the mirror, but I feel a disappointment that I did not think I would feel again. What did I expect? I am the beast, and nothing will change that. There is no hope of seeing my former self in the mirror again.
With a hopeless feeling I haven’t known in so long, I’m at her rooms without remembering any of the journey. My feet have carried me here with the same urgency they carried me to the gate that night. This problem is one that must be attacked without any further wait, because the castle has done its best. It has brightened Elle’s room with roses and sent her things to eat and opened her window as she cried, giving her fresh air until she shivered from the outdoor cold on her skin. It can do no more.
Elle cries on the other side of her bedroom door when I knock loudly, my heart beating fast.
“Put your blindfold on.” I call through the door.
Elle does not answer. She only cries, her sobs becoming a bit softer. I do not hear the telltale creak of the bed as she reaches for the blindfold. I do not hear her agreement. Pain flows through my being.
“Please put the blindfold on.” I try again, though I am certain she can hear the impatience in my voice. What she cannot hear is the agony her pain puts me through. I can bear it no longer.