A Kiss like Roses: Fairy Tale Synergy Book 1

by Colton, Eliza

  “I’m sure you were,” he said. “Even so, couldn’t you have waited a day? Why are you out here so late?”

  “I… erm…” I laughed awkwardly. “I might have left without bringing enough money for an inn.”

  His expression became incredulous, almost pitying—of my intelligence, not my circumstances—and I swallowed. He sat in silence for a few moments, then sighed. “Come on in, then.”

  “I-I’m sorry?”

  “I’m offering you a ride,” he said. “Unless you’d prefer to travel on foot.”

  I rapidly shook my head. Though doubt fluttered in my stomach, it was this or falling asleep on the streets a few hours from now, so I opened the carriage door, entered, and sat down, my back glued against the seat.

  “Did my unwavering determination convince you I’d find a way to steal a rose?” I asked, raising my voice so he could hear me from outside as he guided the horses. The carriage jolted to a start.

  “No. But your shamelessness convinced me you’d come back alive.”

  I winced, unsure how shamelessness would help me, but feeling insulted regardless. Then I shook my head. I was going to the forest to steal a treasure, and there was a good chance I would die—or be vanished, whatever that meant. Who cared about a stranger’s opinion?

  Questions formed in my head—who was he, and what was he doing here?—but I drifted off before long, a small smile on my face as I dreamed about bringing home a bouquet of golden roses.

  * * *

  “-y, hey, wake up, we’re—”

  A warm, fatherly voice tugged me back to consciousness, and I began to stretch, only for my arms to hit the low ceiling of the carriage. I grunted.

  Rubbing my eyes, I grumbled, “Papa, no, let me sleep a little more—” as if I were a kid again, and my father was trying to wake me up to send me to school, threatening to pour a bucket of ice water on my face if I didn’t wake up.

  The sound of a horse neighing and stomping at the ground brought me back to reality.

  “I—sorry,” I said, tugging my hair back. When I opened my eyes, it was the driver’s sympathetic stare that greeted me, dark circles and bags pooled under his eyes. A thrum of guilt pierced me.

  The man shook his head, then gestured outward. “No problem, but we’re here.”

  Widening my eyes, I glanced out the carriage.

  Endless knotted trees towered over us, their foliage forming thick clouds that blocked much of the sky. The little daylight that peered through the leaves spotlighted a small path leading deeper into the forest, enticing me to continue—and filling me with beads of optimism.

  “We’re here already?” I frowned. “Why didn’t you take a break to sleep?”

  “I’m late getting home,” he said. “If I take another day, my family will worry and cause a scene.”

  I nodded, understanding. It was a pity, but people his age were expected to have weakened strength, joints, and vision; if something were to happen to him, he’d be in far more peril than those even five years younger than him. His children and grandchildren (and great-grandchildren) must be distraught.

  And I’d made him overexert himself for me. I began to apologize, but he swatted at air.

  “If you’re sorry, get out of the carriage,” he said.

  “Oh, that’s right, I’m terribly sor—” The man glared at me from his seat. Without another peep, I hopped out of the carriage. He’d appreciate compliance over more meaningless words.

  Eager to pay him, I dug through my purse and practically threw all my coins into his hands. “Thank you, thank you, you don’t understand how grateful I am—”

  Spitting at the ground, the man handed my coins right back.

  “I can’t accept money from someone I might’ve driven to her death,” he said.

  “I thought you trusted me to survive.”

  “No, I just don’t think your death is guaranteed. If you die, I’ll have murdered—”

  “I won’t die,” I said, giving him a smile of reassurance that I wished I felt myself.

  Pushing the coins back at him, I added, “I need to pay you somehow, and I won’t need the coins if I’m dead.” While the statement was morbid, both of us knew it was also the truth.

  “Money’s the last thing I need,” he grumbled, but he accepted the coins. I said nothing, but I scoffed. If he didn’t need the money, why would he have strayed far from his home to chauffeur people until late at night when he met me on his way home?

  Glancing back at the trees, I exhaled. The path was quick to split into several directions, each of them as dark and ominous as the last. Never mind the beast’s viciousness. I had a feeling I’d die long before I even found him.

  “I don’t suppose you know how to find the beast?” I mumbled, desperate.

  The man snorted. “What, do you already want me to take you back home?”

  Bristling at his words, I replied, “I plan to die here, whether it’s by the beast’s hands or the fangs of a wild animal.” Wait a second. That wasn’t true. “Let me correct myself. I plan to steal a rose for my father, even if it takes me a decade of struggling to escape through the forest first.”

  The man rolled his eyes. “Right… Well, we’re as close as we can get to the beast’s den by carriage, thanks to several detours. When you get closer to the paths, you’ll see several footsteps. Follow them until you get there. Good luck.”

  I gaped at him. How did he know the directions? And if he knew where the beast lived, why wasn’t he filthy rich from stealing all the roses himself?

  He smiled. “Someone has to bring the beast food.”

  “Wait, what?” I cried. Had I misheard him?

  Of all people to drive me here, how could it have been him?

  I’d never even realized the beast had someone deliver food to him. It made sense, but it felt so… normal.

  What did he even eat? When we were children, Constance I had joked that he was a demon who feasted on human flesh, and I’d never had a reason to think about it after.

  He was the beast.

  The feared monster who vanished people.

  Why did he need someone to bring him food?

  “What, did you think he hunted the forest’s creatures every day? He’s a beast, not a caveman.”

  I chose not to respond, and the man sniffed.

  He added with a dry, almost biting chuckle, “Try to bring up your father somehow. Maybe he’ll pity you.”

  “Wait, what do you mean?” I asked.

  This time, he chose not to respond. Tapping the sides of his horses, he ordered them to gallop away.

  Their eager obedience created puffs of dust and dirt that buffeted my face. I squeezed my eyes shut and hacked out a cough.

  When I opened my eyes again, he was gone.

  A raven emerged from behind me, croaking out a distorted song as it swooped into the cloak of trees, almost as if it were following the man.

  The vision filled me with foreboding, which I had no choice but to ignore.

  Father’s life was at stake.

  Chapter 3

  I turned around and tentatively approached the path to the beast, staring at the ground.

  Hundreds of footsteps were pressed into the dirt. Although they branched into different directions, the brunt of them was headed one way.

  Inhaling the thick scent of moss and oakwood, I gave the forest one last thorough look.

  The giant trees seemed to be fighting a brawl with their misshapen branches, every inch of them contorted and tangling into each other.

  Inexplicable fear of the trees knotted in my stomach; perhaps they’d swallow me up and turn me into another of their coiled, mangled branches if I stayed too long.

  Taking a deep breath, I followed the footprints—and murmured prayers.

  Fortunately, the driver had done a stellar job; as promised, the silhouette of a mansion emerged from behind the trees within an hour or two at most.

  Fearing the beast could hear me from insid
e his mansion, I stifled my groan, took my shoes off, and tiptoed closer and closer until, finally, I reached the large clearing where his home was erected.

  Tall, metal fences shot up into the skies around his mansion, guarding the countless besotted roses that grew formed a golden lake amidst the endless green.

  I gasped. They were beautiful, but they were right there in plain sight. Unguarded. How could that be? Why weren’t they harder to steal? Cooped up inside the beast’s mansion, perhaps, in expensive glass vases?

  Another question nagged at me, too. Had there always been so many golden roses? Why couldn’t the beast spare just a few?

  It didn’t matter. The beast’s greed benefitted me; had he been generous, the nobles wouldn’t have offered fifty million for them.

  I squeezed my eyes shut as I gripped the fence’s metal rods, wheezing at the cold contact.

  Misshapen holes of varying sizes decorated the fence. I attempted to reach for the closest rose through one, but of course, my arms were too big, and the roses were too far away. The only way to get them would be to climb over.

  Anything for my family.

  Knowing my knife would serve as a deterrent, I looked around for a hole in the gate large enough for me to push it through.

  Aha.

  Next, I rubbed my hands together, having heard somewhere a long time ago that the friction caused would strengthen my grip. I didn’t know how accurate that was, but it was the only tool I had.

  Taking a deep breath, I began to climb. And climb. And climb.

  It didn’t take long for me to get used to it. The decorative holes made it almost simple to scale, which was strange, but I was too grateful to question it.

  I swept up like a monkey, trying not to worry about landing; the gate seemed to stretch up to the heavens, and it was one thing to climb it—and a completely different, far harder thing to descend.

  Inwardly screaming at myself not to look down, I continued my ascent.

  I wasn’t the first thief to come here. Others before me had jumped the fence, I was sure of it. If not, they would have turned to go home, and the beast would not have punished them. It was from those people that the rumors had spread to begin with.

  They hadn’t died from jumping off the fence, either; there were neither corpses nor blood stains hidden in the surrounding glass.

  Reaching the other side of the fence was possible. The fence wasn’t dangerous; it was only a deterrent. A test of determination—and that, I had in spades.

  It felt like years had passed by the time I reached the top, though it had been half an hour at most. Who cared about the details? I felt accomplished.

  I lifted my arms to cheer like a child before realizing that, oh, right, yes, I was kind of on top of a very, very, very tall fence. A single wrong movement and I’d plummet to my death. I barely bit back my scream.

  The realization sobered me—and reminded me to force my head down to look back at the ground. Specks of golden roses flickered in a small area of the forest; the mansion seemed both tiny and gargantuan at once. I gulped.

  Just how far up had I climbed? Just how had the people before me managed to climb down? Perhaps the rumors had been incredibly off the mark. In reality, the fools who dared to trespass for some roses fell to their deaths, and the beast was just a poor guy who had to clean up the mess.

  I swallowed, then took deep breaths. I was lightheaded and unable to think straight. But I had to. Shaking my head, I cleared my thoughts, trying to keep them grounded rather than a thousand miles up in the clouds.

  Where I was.

  Heavens help me.

  I bit back bile and forced my gaze back up so I wouldn’t need to think about just how far I could fall.

  It wasn’t like I had to jump down. All I needed was to climb down the same way I’d come up. I could do this.

  As carefully as my life depended on it—because it did—I turned my gaze back to the fence and descended step by step, trying not to think too much about the fact that if jumping over a fence was all it took to grab a rose, they would not be so coveted.

  Instead, I tried to be optimistic and think about how I’d soon have fifty million coins in my very own hands… and realized with snaking dread that I’d need to make the journey up and down the fence again. I grit my teeth. It was a simple and obvious tradeoff, but that did nothing to console me here and now.

  Just as my foot thudded against the grass, my breath shivering—

  “You’re here for a rose, too?”

  A male voice. Deep and velvet smooth, though not without an edge.

  It came from behind me.

  I froze. Blood drained from my body. Was it the beast? Who else could it be? Too afraid to look and confirm my suspicions, I instead continued facing forward, clutching tighter to the fence’s bars.

  “Did no one ever teach you manners? When someone talks to you, look at them.”

  I had to fight every inch of my quivering body to respond, for fear had sapped my energy, and I wondered if it was worth answering him at all. Either way, if he was the beast, I would be punished.

  “I—um—” My voice came out raspy and trembling, and as it turned out, I couldn’t form proper sentences anyway. Did I even have anything to say?

  Could I lie to him and tell him I’d stumbled here by accident?

  Of course not. I was on the wrong side of the gate.

  There went my sole shred of an excuse.

  “I-I’m here to save my father’s life,” I said, still not daring to look back at him. My heart went berserk. Imaginations of monstrous, half-human creatures bombarded me. In front of me was a man, and the conversation with the driver had only reinforced that fact, but he had the persuasion of a demon.

  “You’re not the first with a sob story,” he barked, and my hairs rose at his trivialization of my father’s illness. No surprise that it meant nothing to him, but—but to call it a sob story in such a dismissive tone?

  I’m sure I would have turned and retaliated in any other circumstance, but I still had one foot dangling on the fence, and I couldn’t even turn to look at the speaker. Shame filled me, but I did nothing.

  “What did you do to the others?” I demanded. I could do that much, albeit only because I knew I’d share their fate no matter what I did.

  “You’ll see,” he said, annoyance layering over his impatience. I paused. Why hadn’t he done anything to me yet? Almost as if he was waiting for something. He didn’t need to wait until I had both feet planted on the ground to physically attack me, and I hadn’t heard him move closer to me.

  Then I remembered—he’d asked me to turn towards him.

  Was that relevant?

  I frowned. What was he, Medusa? Did he have snakes in his hair that would turn me into stone?

  It sounded stupid even to me, but that was the only lead I had. As long as I didn’t see him, it was fine, huh?

  Closing my eyes, I hopped off the fence. I could snatch the rose, climb the fence back, and run—

  The moment the grass tickled my feet, the man seized me by my shoulders, turning me with enough force to make me sick. It took all I had not to snap open my eyes in shock.

  I gulped. Well. I was kind of an idiot, wasn’t I? Only now did the sheer foolishness of my feigned bravery and optimism crash upon me. Magic or no, the beast could still use his hands and weapons to attack me.

  Adrenaline and fear rumbled in my chest and throat, suffocating me.

  The beast paused, his breath hitching, then spoke in an incredulous tone. “Are… you trying to die?”

  “… No, I’m trying to steal a rose.”

  “There are better ways to do that then to jump right into the reach of a beast,” he said, letting me go. Odd. Of course, I was to stay here until he dismissed me or disappeared me, since he could grab me again any time he wished with little effort.

  “You call yourself that?” I managed through my teeth.

  “No, but I know it’s what everyone else calls me
.”

  I tried to arch a brow, but considering I was still dead set on keeping my eyes shut, all I did was make an unattractive face. Hearing a small laugh, I relaxed fractionally. The beast could be reasoned with. Maybe.

  “Remind me why you’re so dead set on keeping your eyes closed.” He paused before speaking again, and I could almost hear a smile in his voice.

  No.

  I was imagining it.

  Any sweetness from him was an illusion borne of my desperation.

  If he was so easy to speak to, why would they call him a beast? Why would they fear him as much as they coveted his possessions?

  “The sunlight’s so bright, I just couldn’t help myself.” I pulled another face. Just how terrible could my excuses get? Although light illuminated the clearing thanks to the relative lack of trees, it was far from bright here. Before the beast could mock me, I corrected myself. “I’m a little scared of you.”

  “A little?”

  “I’m very scared of you. Is that better?”

  He sighed. I heard something shuffle before he spoke again. “Well, at least you’re honest half the time. Why do you need a rose for your father?”

  “I… He has the misfortune,” I said. Remembering the driver’s words, I wondered if the beast had the capacity for pity. “Why do you ask? I thought everyone had a sob story, and mine is nothing special.” Call me petty, even in the most dangerous of circumstances.

  “It’s not,” he said. His voice wavered the tiniest bit as if he shrugged while talking. He clicked his tongue. “Fifty million coins, right? It’s obscene.”

  Huh. We could agree on that much. Roused by this commonality, I spat, “Agreed. Why can’t the royal family share the secrets of the cure instead of hoarding it and artificially elevating the prices? It’s like people’s lives mean nothing to them.”

  The beast scoffed. “I meant for the roses.”

  Oh.

  “W-well, don’t you agree the price of the cure is disgusting, too?” I asked, almost desperate. I wasn’t even sure what for. Sympathy, maybe. If he pitied me enough, he’d give me a rose for free. I knew better than to hope, but the beast had been so reasonable—so human—and I couldn’t help but dare.