by Brea Viragh
I didn’t detect any sarcasm in his voice. If anything, I heard hope, and I clung to that, focusing on him until black filled the edges of my vision and I saw only his wavering silhouette. Loneliness. His life had been nothing but an endless cycle of isolation and loneliness since the day I’d changed him.
I thought about the stories I’d read in the past. The fairy tales where the hero rescues the princess and they share true love’s kiss, living happily ever after. Except there were no such things as true love’s kiss or a happy ending for all. They were nothing but make-believe stories, printed on paper and bound in leather, products for sale to make the authors and publishers rich. Peddling fantasy.
“I meant what I said to you earlier. I don’t remember anything about that night. My memories up to that point are just…gone. I learned secondhand about the curse recently, and I can only think that the backlash from the magic I used caused my amnesia.” I stared down at my hands and wished for a book to read. A spine to trail my fingers down, pages of print to ground me, to comfort me even though I knew I’d find no answers there.
I chose my words with great care, cautious not to reveal that I had no plan in place. That I’d run from my mother’s cottage at the first chance and without adequate time to research and prepare. “I’m so sorry I hurt you, but I’m willing to try to fix it,” I continued. “I’ll do whatever I can to help. Can you please tell me what happened?”
“I don’t remember anything.” His mocking tone was derisive. Merek turned to glare at me and I met his angry gaze. Beyond the castle walls, the wind howled, rattling the trees with an impending storm and sending leaves scattering. He sat down on the rickety coffee table. “Nothing about this face rings a bell?”
He pointed to himself, looking more beast-like in the light of the fire, his features rougher, harder. This was a man who no longer thought of himself as a human being. I could see it clearly.
“Please tell me what happened,” I repeated. I smoothed my fingertips over the scratches on my arms, the swollen places where fang and claw and thorn had pierced through skin.
Merek stared at me for a moment longer before shaking his head. “No. There are some things better left in the past. We turn our focus to the future instead, yes?”
We sat in silence, both of our attentions focused on the fire, and my gratitude for him shifted into some kind of neutral territory, the twisting sensations in my stomach easing. I hated that it had come to this. And I especially hated how I couldn’t remember a bit of it.
But gone was the timid girl who hid in her humble cottage and wondered why everyone hated her. She’d been replaced by someone with resolve. Someone determined to speak frankly.
Enough moping and feeling sorry for myself. Enough dwelling on a past I could not change. I was here for one reason: to help right a wrong I’d committed. That, coupled with a few of my own selfish desires. To remember. To be better than I was.
“I want to find a way to reverse the curse,” I reiterated.
“What makes you think that’s even a possibility?” he replied bitterly.
My brow furrowed when I turned to look at him. His limbs were tensed as if ready for a fight. But I’d been through too much tonight to oblige him. Heat rose from his body, enough to rival the flames behind me.
Merek stared into the flames, his features regal. Cold. I noticed the way his claws snagged on the fabric of his pants. I suspected that at one time he’d worn the finest materials money could buy. Now he made do with whatever would fit his monstrous frame.
After a long moment, I stood.
“I’m exhausted and I can’t think straight. Hopefully I’ll figure things out in the morning. I’ll find someplace to sleep.” I moved away from the fire, not even knowing where I was going, just…away from him.
He jerked up and suddenly was towering over me with a storm brewing in his deep brown eyes, moving closer and closer and I had nowhere to hide. “You might thank me for my decision to let you stay.”
“Yes.” I nodded and turn away from his accusatory gaze. “You’re right. Thank you.”
Seeing a crystal decanter on a shelf nearby, somehow miraculously intact, I reached for the amber liquid and didn’t bother with a glass. Instead, I popped the lid off and tossed back a long sip, letting the burn seep through me. Not for the taste, but to sear the shame out of myself, to sear away the mounting anger with myself at how far I’d come and how I’d let this mess take shape.
I replaced the decanter and turned back to him, a little bit of liquid courage giving me words. “I don’t think you would have bothered to come after me tonight if you weren’t ready for a resolution. Whatever the terms of the curse, you haven’t been successful in lifting it,” I said. “As much as you may want me dead, you want to be released more, and I am your best chance for that. So yes, I believe you’ll let me stay here with you until we find a way to reverse it. An arrangement for which I express my deepest thanks.”
“Hmmmm.” It was a long growl, but not an angry one. Was he softening to the idea?
Warmth washed over me like a much-needed shower at the end of the day. What I wouldn’t give to curl up beside the hearth, flipping through the well-worn pages of one of my favorite books, letting the words I knew so well wrap me in peace and take me away from reality.
“Now will you show me to a room or should I pick one out for myself?” I didn’t add my next thought: Are there any you haven’t destroyed? In his position, I would have trashed the place in rage as well.
He was achingly careful not to touch me when he moved past me. Fine.
I followed him toward the stairs and in the silence the last of my temper fizzled out. His as well, judging by his lack of growls. Merek led me to a dusty door on the second floor and pushed it open with a moan.
“Still as beautiful as a rose, Reila. Still the bane of my existence no matter how much time has passed. Here. This room is yours for as long as you require it. Far away from mine.”
My heart quickened. “Thank you.”
I turned to offer him a smile of gratitude only to find him gone, his echoing snarl sending me hurrying into the room.
Sighing, I let go of the weight of the day, closing the door behind me and finally letting my spine relax. Finally allowing my hands to hang limp at my sides and the last of the tension to drain. What had I gotten myself into?
How could I have left home when my mother needed me? Maybe I’d gone mad as well.
I stood inside the room unmoving, knowing that beneath the layers of dust covering every available surface of the room, grandiose beauty awaited. This room might have been unused for years, but in its prime it would have shared the same exquisite details and beauty as the rest of the castle. Stonework made up three of the four walls, the other wall patterned with a gold embossed wallpaper. Baroque ceilings rose to a peak above me and left enough room for the curved arches of the four-poster bed. Large windows lay straight ahead, empty and black.
I inhaled a steadying breath and wondered if the prince had any staff left to serve him. Those willing and able to bind themselves into the employ of a monster. If so, they would only bother with the rooms he used. There was no need for guest quarters when no guests came to stay.
Uncaring about the dust or my own grime-coated skin, I crossed to the bed and pulled back the counterpane. I shoved it to the foot of the bed, kicked off my boots, and crawled between the sheets, still wearing my filthy clothes.
Every fiber of me screamed that I’d made so many mistakes. I shouldn’t have stopped for a rest in the woods. I should have gone all the way back home, ankle or no ankle. And I couldn’t reconcile that feeling with the one I’d grasped earlier, the fleeting feeling of gratitude for being safe within these walls.
Only after I closed my eyes did I wonder if I should have locked the door against the beast roaming the halls.
Chapter 10
Silence greeted me when I woke the next morning. I turned toward the window, saw the first rays of morn
ing sun, and for a moment I forgot where I was. There was only a feeling, a vague recollection of nightmares that slipped away the further I woke.
Should I have tried to sneak away again during the night? The thought ate at me. The longer I remained under the stale sheets, the more I tried to convince myself I did the right thing by staying.
Of course it was the right thing.
My ankle still ached and when I shifted it, wincing, I felt heat coming from the area. An infection I would have to keep an eye on to make sure it didn’t worsen.
A knock at the door sounded and I jerked in the direction of the sound. “Hold on.” My voice trembled, tension returning to my muscles and limbs. Uneasy, I coaxed my legs over the side of the bed, heading for the door with feet made of cement and a fierce limp due to the ankle. Finally, I had my hand on the doorknob though I had no clue who or what I’d find on the other side.
The breath I’d been holding released when I stared down at a tray of eggs, bacon, and fresh fruit. A glass vase held a single red rose to accompany the meal. The delicious aroma had saliva pooling instantly in my mouth.
Glancing up and down the hall, I saw no one.
“Thank you!” I said loudly. Then anxiously grabbed the tray and returned to the relative cocoon of safety the room had become overnight.
I shoveled food into my mouth without hesitation, like I’d never tasted anything so good in my life, and then with my stomach full I got to work.
Once I finished cleaning the room, removing years of accumulated dust, it was nothing short of a dream. Opulence such as I’d never imagined. The windows, once scrubbed, showed a clear view of the dead gardens and the tree limbs in desperate need of pruning after too many years of neglect and allowed to grow wild. They obscured the view of the valley beyond, and when I pushed the window open, a soft summer breeze drew out the remaining stuffy scent.
The room might have been designed for a guest, but to me it more suited a queen or an empress, with marble floor and old window dressings and tapestries of plush velvet and silk ropes. Once again, I felt the balance of power shift out of my grasp. I’d come here to Prince Merek’s domain with the intention of saving him, as though I could miraculously snap my fingers and fix what I’d broken in the first place. Yet I had to rely on his hospitality to do it. His very grudging and reluctant hospitality.
The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.
A few doors down I found a bathroom. The tub was large enough to be considered a small bathing pool, perfect for soaking, and the hot water worked beautifully. I stared at myself in the mirror, thinking about the stupidity of riding my horse into the night to help a man I couldn’t remember, a man who might or might not be living in the castle beyond the vast medieval forest. A man who might or might not be glad to see me. And all this with only the clothes on my back. Did I think I’d have the problem solved before dawn?
I didn’t know what I’d thought. The pressing need to right my wrong had guided me rather than logic, and now I wondered if borrowing some of the clothes I’d found in the wardrobe would be acceptable…or piss off the master of the castle.
After my bath and with nothing else to wear except my grubby clothing, I ended up grabbing a dress from the large mahogany wardrobe and slipping it down over my shoulders. Knowing I probably looked ridiculous. At least it fit me.
With no other choice, I left my hair undone and spilling down in loose curls. I gritted my teeth and swept into the hallway, determined not to be embarrassed. Swallowed against a burning in my throat at what I’d find with morning’s light.
My appearance should be the least of my concerns, I told myself. I refused to feel intimidated. And I refused to play the victim any longer than I already had. At least he’d given me a nice place to sleep. Far from him, he’d said, but better than a cell in the dungeon.
Did the castle even have a dungeon? That thought should have given me heebie-jeebies, but somehow in the light of day, it just made me want to giggle. I was a guest here no matter what the owner of the castle thought of me. A guest with a purpose. I didn’t know if the other people in the castle—if there were other people in the castle—would feel the same way about me that Merek did. Or how they would treat me going forward.
I hadn’t barricaded the door against him during the night, either. I had nothing to fear from him, just as I had nothing to prove. I was there to help him, and slipping further into victimhood did nothing for anyone.
Standing up straight, I made my way downstairs, with the hem of the long old-fashioned dress leaving a trail in the dust behind. Through large dingy windows at the front of the castle I saw the rising sun cresting over the dense forest. The same forest I’d come through the day before. A strange hazy mist rolled along the tree tops and I knew that below was the village, probably glad to be rid of me. And here I stood in the castle, with the woods untouched by man and the disused roadways disappearing beneath new growth. An untamed wilderness with the prince now a king of this realm of isolation. The trees became massive and silent guards keeping all those in the castle confined to the grounds.
Not knowing what to do, I walked back toward the kitchen, determined to familiarize myself with the castle layout. Steeling my nerves along the way and smoothing down the front of the dress as I willed my hands not to shake.
I saw no one, no one who might be responsible for the breakfast I’d eaten and the beautiful rose now gracing the nightstand. However, when I walked past the formal dining room, I noticed a place setting had been laid at the head of the table along with a glass of what looked like orange juice.
Merek and I were not the only ones here, clearly, though I looked around but I still saw no one. For a heartbeat, I wondered where everyone had gone. Were they hiding?
Could I count on breakfast in my room every day? Or would I be expected to eat the rest of my daily meals with Merek? I moved past the dining room before anyone saw me.
I couldn’t think in terms of staying here for any length of time. That wasn’t the plan. My mother and brother must be frantic with worry by now. I must keep my focus on why I was here at all.
To find a way to reverse the curse I’d put on Prince Merek.
So I felt elated when my rambling led me to the library. Books! My old friends. I ran my fingers lovingly across the spines of a shelf of books, gazing about in wonder and admiration at the tall bookcases lining three walls of the large room. The fourth wall was all windows, letting in plenty of natural light for reading and research. My excitement grew by leaps and bounds as I perused a few of the titles. Perhaps here I could discover some hint or clue—
“What the devil are you doing in here?” Merek asked too quietly. So quietly that I still jumped as if he’d roared at me. “Tell me the truth and do not even think to lie to me. Unless you would rather me still believe your arrival here to be a mistake. Or better yet, physical proof that the universe is laughing at me. Are you not content with the rest of your lodgings?”
The towering shelves of books around us were silent, no doubt waiting to see what would be said between us, books clustered tightly together like soldiers in formation waiting for their next order. Their next assignment. The moment I’d walked through the door and found them it had felt like the sun finally poking through the dark clouds after a long storm.
Now the storm was back and it walked on two legs.
I waited for the tension to ease a little so that I could breathe, but that relief never came. Despite the spacious room and the bright sunlight glinting in through the grime-covered windows, I felt I needed to defend myself.
“My room is lovely, thank you. I found the library quite by accident, and I’m hoping to discover something that might jog my memory,” I admitted, turning back to the shelves.
“Get out of this room. Now.”
I winced at the raw command in his voice. The voice of the high lord of the land, although he had not acted on the title in many years. On instinct, I turned to face him with my arms in front
of me like a shield.
It made me wince to look at him but I forced my gaze to meet his. I had to believe his eyes were the same even though I remembered nothing about him when he’d been human.
“You never said I couldn’t come to the library…” And why wouldn’t he want me in here? Although I didn’t know Merek personally—well, at least I knew him enough to profess my love to him in the past, obviously, so that wasn’t entirely true, my mind reminded me—he didn’t strike me as the type to be possessive over a room full of dusty books.
Clearly uneasy, Merek took a step forward and his toe claws clicked against the marble floor. “I didn’t think I would have to watch where I walked for fear of running into you. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to worry about another person, let alone a woman like you, and I find I do not care for the experience. Once again I will tell you, Miss Barnes, you should not be in this room.”
For a monster, he was surprisingly light on his feet. And awkward around people, I knew right away, unwilling to make eye contact with me or carry on a conversation for more than a few grunted syllables at a time.
“I didn’t realize I would need to ask permission for where I walked,” I said, fighting the urge to jump into an immediate argument. “You only said I should not leave the castle, and as you can see I have not. I’m sorry if seeing me here took you by surprise but if there are places inside the castle you would rather I not go, then you should have told me. I’m not sure how else you expect me to research cures for curses without use of a library, though. It makes my job much harder.”
“These books,” he said, pointing to the nearest shelf but basically indicating all of them, “belonged to my mother. No one has touched them since she passed away. They were her pride and joy.”
The ache in those words had me sliding into one of the chairs nearby, shaking inside. “Your mother liked to read?”
Merek nodded. “She did. Most of the collections you see were brought here by her, for her pleasure. She spent her lifetime collecting anything she could get her hands on, acquiring many of these forgotten and cast-off tomes from attics, basements, and reputable sellers. My father often laughed at her folly while secretly supplying her with access to more precious books. This room holds what is virtually the last of her essence in this castle. You can understand why I am a bit protective of it.”
