Bell stood stunned until the wolf, who had sat back on his haunches, started nodding his head to draw her attention to the lack of pets she was giving him. Chuckling at his sass after the fright he had just given her, she nonetheless started stroking his head. Within moments his tongue lolled out of his mouth, and he had a sudden resemblance to an overgrown puppy.
“Wow, you are beautiful, aren’t you?” she cooed, admiring his dark coat. It was so black that it seemed to suck the light out of the surroundings and as soft as it was fluffy. Petting him was like running her hands through silk strands. She stroked him until her racing heart calmed, relieved the danger of him eating her seemed to have passed.
“Well, boy, I think I should probably head back inside.” He cocked his head at her with his ears alert, listening intently. Bell felt a grin pulling on her lips. “Did you want to come with me?”
The big wolf stood up and licked her face again before spinning on its heels and walking along a path. Before she started following Bell glanced behind her at the thorny bush. She would have to come back another time to look at it.
Bell had figured out how to find her way around the Palace. She wished that she could say that she had figured it out through cool deduction, but really it was her anger boiling over that led to the breakthrough.
She had found a tray laid out with two plates in the kitchen and had happily devoured the delicate cheese and crackers, even managing to savor every bite despite the circumstances.
Once she had eaten her fill, the real trouble began. Determined to find a library, for the Palace must have one, she had left the kitchen from the door opposite of where she had entered. One step into the hall and she was lost again, each doorway transitioning in illogical ways. Out of pure and utter frustration, Bell had exclaimed out loud, “Why don’t you behave! I’m just trying to find the library! I’m tired of your constant changing dammit!”
A stiff breeze whisked down the hall in reply before dissipating as suddenly as it had started. Startled, Bell continued on and, in moments, found a set of double doors cracked open before her. Pushing them open all the way, she was struck by the pure sense of awe that only small children experiencing the world for the first time were privileged to.
Yelling at the Palace had done the trick – Bell stood in a library more magnificent than any in her dreams. Every wall was covered in books; books wrapped in cloth, books bound in supple leather, books almost as large as she was. Bell’s imagination had never been capable of envisioning someplace as extraordinary as this. The room extended in both directions, at least as long as the main square in Town, with plush armchairs scattered around in ideal reading nooks. Row after row of shelves snaked through the room, creating a labyrinth.
Something fluttered in Bell’s peripheral vision, making her turn. She was alone - there was only a plush armchair and side table. She drew closer, curious about the flicker of movement she was positive she had seen. A steaming teapot sat on the table with a matching cup and saucer – delicate blue flowers wove their way across the white china surface. Next to the tea, there was an open book lying face down, as if someone had set it down intending to return soon.
Bell glanced around, the back of her neck prickling, warning her that someone was watching. There was no one. Sitting down, she relaxed into the plush chair. An involuntary sigh of pleasure escaped her lips, her body grateful she had finally taken a rest.
Curious Bell grabbed the teapot on the table and lifted the lid, inhaling deeply. An avid tea drinker, Bell was puzzled to find she couldn’t identify what type was brewing. It still smelled good, and after the quality of her simple dinner, she was sure this tea would be every bit as delicious, even if she didn’t know what it was. Pouring herself a cup, Bell took a tentative sip. Soothing warmth swam across her tongue and heated her chest when she swallowed. Whatever the mystery tea was, it was incredible.
Sipping leisurely, Bell picked up the book to inspect it. Unlike every other object in the Palace, this book was not perfect and pristine. The leather cover was worn soft by handling, and the binding had several loose spots. Glancing at the title, she saw it was a book of poetry by an author she had never heard of. She flipped back to the page that had been marked and began to read.
Magic, much different than that of the Fae, ensnared her as she read. The book, only containing various combinations of twenty-six letters, drew Bell into a world of darkness and emptiness and hopelessness.
Belladonna was startled out of the pages by two things happened simultaneously: the first was a long black nose shoving the book out of her hands, and the second was a deep male voice behind her commanding, “Don’t move.” Both Bell and the wolf froze, looking at each other, not knowing who the command was for.
“Be very still, I don’t want him to-” The man’s words were broken off by the wolf who, deciding he didn’t want to be still anymore, lunged forward to cover every available inch of Bell’s face with kisses. “bite you…” The voice trailed off lamely.
Belladonna couldn’t help herself and giggled at the onslaught. Everything in her life had been turned on its head, and she didn’t know what was happening anymore or what she was supposed to do. But it was an overwhelming relief to know that whatever else had changed, the unadulterated adoration of an animal could always make her feel momentarily better.
Pushing the wolf off, she rose and turned towards her unexpected guest. An involuntary gasp escaped her lips, and the man flinched as if she had hit him. He towered over her, a broad-shouldered hulk of a human man, not a Fae like she had been half-expecting. Roger would be considered a delicate flower if the pair stood side by side.
Perhaps he had been a handsome man once, but not anymore. Whatever he might have been, he was now disfigured by the crosshatch of scars warping every inch of his flesh. They covered his face and exposed hands, inching down into the collar of his shirt. Bell suspected that the scars extended across his entire body. They weren’t delicate or faded, they were still angry and red, memories of wounds not long in the past.
The only part of him left unmarred were his eyes – their pale blue color so icy she was reminded of the Fae’s.
“I didn’t want Fluffy to bite you.” Glancing down at the wolf, who had thrown himself on the floor to wiggle on his back, he added wryly, “Although it doesn’t seem like I needed to worry. He doesn’t like the Fae, so I didn’t know if...” His voice trailed off.
Bell stood dumbly for a moment. His voice rocked through her, not very different from the wolf’s growl. In contrast to the Fae’s voices from this morning, his voice was all heat. Standing before him, she realized how cold she was, not in body temperature, but in being. This place was not meant for her, and the halls had leached the warmth from her bones during her time spent wandering. Hearing his very human voice, standing before her with no waves of magic pulsating from him, Bell was warmed from the inside out.
Then the meaning of his words filtered through her shock. “You named that wolf FLUFFY?” she gasped, appalled.
He blinked at her. Whatever he had thought she was going to say, a commentary on the wolf’s name hadn’t been it. “Yes. Well, his name is technically Fluffy Butt, but he responds to Fluffy. And he’s not a wolf, he’s just an overgrown dog with poor manners.”
“That-” Bell said, pointing at Fluffy. “is NOT a dog. That is a very large wolf. And an animal of that grace and size needs a better name than FLUFFY BUTT.”
The man looked at her then looked down at Fluffy, who had stopped wiggling on his back to better drool on the priceless rug. Bemused, he asked, “Grace? Him?”
Some of Bell’s righteous indignation on Fluffy’s behalf deflated. “Oh, all right,” she muttered. “Maybe a more dignified name wouldn’t suit. But Fluffy Butt is still a dreadfully awful name, and I am offended on his behalf.”
Glancing up from the dog-wolf, she caught the man’s eyes roving over her. He stopped and dropped his gaze back to Fluffy. Blushing, Bell stood there awkwardly, unsure w
hat to do. The silence stretched out until she broke it, saying, “Not to be rude, but who are you?”
He grimaced as if in pain, still staring at his dog. “I –” he said, sweeping down into a graceful bow, “am Beast.”
Automatically Bell swept into an answering curtsy. “Belladonna. Bell for short.”
“Bell. Belladonna. That’s a fascinating name.” He inspected her again, and Bell’s flesh prickled with awareness as his eyes roved over her. “But then again, you are a fascinating woman. You’ve traded places with your father.”
It was a statement, not a question, so Bell nodded once.
“Why?”
“Why what?” she asked, confused. Maybe it was the heat of the room, or the warm tea settling into her bones, or simply the way his voice seemed to caress her ears, but she was starting to get very drowsy.
“Why,” he stepped around her, “did you trade places with your father? Why did you come after him?” He sat in the chair she had just vacated, forcing her to turn around to see him.
“I’m not sure I understand the question. He’s my father, and I love him, and he can’t stay here. There wasn’t anything else to do.”
“That was very noble of you. And incredibly stupid. But those two often tend to come together, do they not?”
Bell bristled. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re both here, are we not? Why are you here?” she snapped.
“This,” he gestured around him, “is a beautiful, perfect, prison, designed for my own personal punishment. Everything a man could desire. Well, almost. And now you get to be tormented here with me.” His next words were so low she almost missed them. “You should have gone home, Belladonna. No one deserves to be trapped here with me.”
He flinched away from her as she replied. “My father doesn’t deserve to be trapped here, either. A prison is a prison, no matter the trappings. A caged bird may sing, but the biggest cage is still a cage.”
Beast didn’t say anything. At a loss, Bell took a seat in the closet armchair, hers being currently occupied. It wasn’t that she wanted to stare, but she kept finding her eyes drawn to the scars on his face.
This was the Beast that Sidero had spoken of. Why was he imprisoned here? What had he done? When she had heard ‘Beast’ Bell had naturally assumed that some animal was here with her, not some disfigured man who didn’t seem like he wanted to be in the same room with her. Was she even safe here?
“I only came out to greet you, so I don’t scare you later. My intention was to introduce myself tomorrow after you had had a chance to rest, but you took my chair and tea. You won’t be seeing much of me; I will keep my distance from you. I’ll take my leave,” he said, rising to leave.
Belladonna watched him go, too shocked by his statement to reply. She was left with the emptiness he had promised.
Chapter Four
Bell made a direct line to the library the next morning, determined to further investigate the room. Every shelf excited her more than the last until she stopped, overwhelmed by the sheer number of books that the room housed. Her finger running along the titles on the shelf nearest, she paused at a collection of fairy tales that had a worn binding. Choosing it, Bell settled herself in the comfiest looking chair by the window, prepared to read until her eyes were too tired to continue.
Taking a brief break after several stories, a motion outside the window caught her attention. Turning to look out at the grounds, she saw Fluffy sprinting after Beast, tongue hanging out, flinging spit everywhere. He looked goofy and endearing.
Beast was running with all the grace Bell would have preferred to attribute to Fluffy, who was doing his best to disappoint her. Whatever had scarred Beast had not damaged him too severely, she mused, watching him sprint back and forth in an apparent exercise, his controlled movements reminding Bell of a predator, all power and danger. It was intimidating to watch him, seeing the feats his body could do with complete ease. Even Fluffy struggled to keep up.
Bell turned back to her book, but her eyes often strayed to the garden. Awestruck by his powerful, graceful movements, she was reminded more of a Fae than of a human. After several chapters, she glanced up to find that Beast and Fluffy were no longer outside. Bell sighed, unsure if she was glad to have her distraction removed. The night before Beast had made it clear he didn’t want her company, but loneliness was creeping into her chest, and it was comforting to see another person, even if he didn’t want to see her.
She hadn’t been reading long when a long black snout forced its way into her lap. Laughing, she looked down to see a wiggling mass of dog begging for her attention. She set the book aside and scratched behind his ears, welcoming the interest.
“Where’s your master, sweet boy?” she cooed.
“You’re in my chair.”
Bell jumped, surprised by the gruff voice to her left. She glanced up - and then higher still. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
Beast continued to gaze out the window above her, refusing to look at her. Gruffly he repeated, “You’re in my chair.”
Bell gazed at him, nonplussed. “You weren’t here when I sat down, and I didn’t know. Do you want me to move?”
Blinking, he paused a moment. “No. I was just saying. You’re in my chair.”
“I will take that into consideration. Thank you for letting me know.” Even though she tried, Bell wasn’t sure that she managed to suppress the sarcasm itching to get out.
“Are you going to be here long?” he asked, peeping at Bell’s face for the first time.
“I don’t know. I hadn’t any plans to leave anytime soon.”
Beast turned on his heels and walked out of the room. Whining as if to apologize for his master’s rude behavior, Fluffy followed Beast out.
* * *
Over the next week, Bell’s days fell into a general pattern. When she rose, she ate from the tray that appeared in her room overnight and then headed down to the library, where she whiled away several hours. The next stop was always the kitchen, where she grabbed a light lunch before going outdoors. She wandered the grounds, Fluffy often tagging along like a giant furry shadow, stopping to inspect whatever perfect specimen of plant struck her fancy. Every day she found a new charming spot to settle down and read in. When done, she would head indoors, eat, and then go to bed, a book still grasped tightly. Enveloped in her bed’s plush covers, Bell would sip the tea that was always prepared, and read until her eyes were too heavy to keep open.
Even with Fluffy’s company, a cold melancholy had settled over Bell. In Town, she had been lonely because she had always been viewed as an outsider, but she had had her father and Mr. Arqam.
Here, there was an emptiness that layered each room like smoke in a house fire. She might as well have been alone in the Palace. Twice in the last week, she had had a sighting of Beast, but he still seemed to be avoiding her. Belladonna couldn’t figure out what crime she had committed to make her presence so offensive, as all she had done thus far was exist.
The silence she’d noticed on her first morning hadn’t dissipated. Instead, it seemed to intensify with each passing hour. There were moments where it weighed the air down so heavily she felt as if she’d drown.
When she had moved from the Big City, it had been a tough adjustment to sleep in Flor Cottage, where no city noises lullabied her to sleep. After a few nights, Belladonna had begun to hear the cacophony of noise that the nighttime bugs made, and it slowly replaced the sounds of wagon wheels and workmen yelling. But in this Palace, there was nothing. The only sounds she ever heard were the noises that she and Fluffy made as they traipsed around. Beast had seemed to master the art of silence as competently as the Palace itself. She never heard him, even when she turned the corner and found him walking at a brisk pace the other way.
Bell wandered towards the kitchen to grab her midday snack. Stepping through the doorway, she halted when she saw Beast standing at the counter, a sandwich midway to his mouth. “I haven’t seen you recentl
y,” Bell said in the way of a greeting, sweeping into the room and heading to the pantry. She had staked out some salami the night before she wanted to add to her lunch basket.
Choking on his bite, Beast sputtered out a garbled noise that might have been, “Belladonna.”
Bell didn’t answer, too focused on finding the cured meat that seemed to have disappeared. Turning to take inventory of the rest of the kitchen, she spied it sitting behind Beast on the counter. He was still hacking as she reached around him to grab it.
“Please don’t choke to death,” she glanced at him, slight concern lacing her voice when his coughing didn’t subside. She started cutting the salami. “I would have no idea how to save you.”
Positioned at the counter, Bell realized she had never been this close to him before. He was gigantic; her head was still inches from his shoulder. As if understanding her thoughts, he stepped away from her, stumbling. “I’ll leave you to it,” he mumbled, heading out of the room.
Emboldened by loneliness, she called after him, “Why do you hate me?”
He froze, his back still towards her. “I don’t hate you, Belladonna.”
“Then why can’t you stand to be in the same room with me?” She wrapped her arms around herself, overwhelmed with coldness. “It’s so lonely here,” she breathed.
Turning, Beast looked at her, standing there, hugging herself. “I don’t want you here. I wish to be alone. You shouldn’t be here, Belladonna. This is not a place for you.”
Rose Bound Magic Page 4
