The Beast's Bride

by Myles, Jill

  As the days passed in preparation for the party, Pippa's dreams began to take on an erotic edge. She dreamed of going to Duncan's quarters and approaching him in his bed. She would peel the blankets back and stare down at his fur-covered body, completely naked. In her dreams, she'd grab for his cock, but she'd always wake up just before she could find out what he truly felt like.

  Not only was she dreaming dirty things, but they were frustrating dirty things.

  Soon enough, though, the first day of the party arrived. Belle took extra care with her appearance that day, humming to herself and fixing her hair into a myriad of curls swept up by a long, beribboned braid that kept her brow bare. Pippa didn't bother, pulling her hair into a simple braid at her back.

  "Who did you invite?" She asked her sister.

  "Everyone in the village, of course," Belle sang out gaily, fluffing her hair for the jillionth time that day.

  "And how do you know they'll show up?"

  Belle gave her a look as if she'd asked the world's stupidest question. "They are farmers and villagers and they've just been invited to an enchanted castle for a ball. Do you really think anyone's going to turn it down?"

  She had a point.

  "Plus, everyone wants to come and gawk at me with the beast," Belle said, and there was a note of bitterness in her voice. Apparently Belle was still not over the fact that she had to marry him.

  For some reason, that irked Pippa. "He's very nice and thoughtful," she said with a hint of snap in her voice. "You should try actually having a conversation with him instead of just shoving things under his nose and claiming that you want them."

  "Why?" Belle gave her a blank look. "Isn't that what he did with me?"

  6Pippa's mouth opened, and then clamped it shut again. Belle had a point. Of course, the truth was that the beast needed a bride to break his curse, but she couldn't exactly tell Belle that. It was forbidden by Muffin’s rules. So she said nothing.

  Belle clapped her hands and stared out the window. "I see horses! Someone's here! Come on, Pippy! Let's go greet them."

  "You go ahead," she told Belle. "I'm going to check on Duncan and see if he needs anything."

  Belle trotted off, skirts flying, before Pippa could say more. Amused, she headed through the labyrinthine halls of the enchanted castle toward Duncan's rooms. She knew the way by heart, now, which was a good thing. At Belle's command, the staff had gone into hiding and there was no one to guide her. It seemed a little cruel to force them to hide out because they were ugly, but this was Belle's party and no one—not even Pippa—wanted to contradict her.

  She knocked quietly at Duncan's door. When there was no response, she added, "It's me. Can I come in?"

  A moment later, the door opened. The beast stared down at her, his jaw set in a grim manner.

  And he wasn't dressed in his best clothing. His favorite tattered cloak hung from his shoulders.

  "Are you not going to the party tonight?" Belle asked. "You're not dressed for it."

  He raked a hand through his mane, as if agitated, and began to pace. "Your sister suggested I stay in my quarters as much as possible. And while initially I thought I would disregard her wishes, I…have changed my mind." Duncan's steps were agitated. "I've no wish to frighten them, and the evening will be long if they stare at me and tremble in fear the entire evening."

  Pippa's mouth curved in a smile. "We can stay in here, if you like. We never did finish our last chess game."

  "We?" Duncan looked astounded. "You would stay with me?"

  "Of course. I prefer your company to anyone else's," she admitted, and found it was the truth.

  She would rather be at Duncan's side than enjoying the most lively party ever. She moved to the chessboard and gestured at it. "Shall we play?"

  "If you insist," he said, but there was a smile on his leonine mouth and a warmth in his voice that made her feel fuzzy with happiness.

  7It seemed she wasn't the only one that didn't mind staying in to play a little chess, and that made her heart ache. Why did she have to be the stinking stepsister in this fairy tale? Why couldn't she have been Belle?

  7

  CHAPTER FIVE

  They hid out from the partygoers for a full day and night.

  Well, it wasn't truly hiding, the way Pippa figured it. They were in Duncan's chambers, as usual. Playing chess, as usual. The staff knew where they were. Heck, even Belle knew where they were. It was just that no one bothered to check in on them.

  And that suited Pippa just fine.

  Duncan, for his part, seemed a bit more relaxed once he realized he wouldn't have to constantly be a spectacle for the guests. He played chess with Pippa, told her stories, and they argued over things—like whether or not the world was flat. He was fun to talk to and seemed impressed by her 'ideas.' As if she were smarter than he'd ever expected anyone to be.

  And she loved it. With Duncan, she felt intelligent, and pretty, and valued. Important. She normally didn't, since her old job was a menial one that involved listening to headphones while she updated spreadsheets. Her family was long gone. In short, she hadn't realized how lonely she was until she'd met Duncan, who was just as lonely. And suddenly she didn't feel so lonely anymore.

  It was weird to think of herself as lonely, considering that she slept next to Belle every night.

  But Belle was sweet and funny most times—and rottenly stubborn at others. And she didn't seem to truly understand Pippa, who wasn't into gowns or hair braiding and didn't want to go back to the village. They were 'sisters,' but they had zero in common.

  Like right now? Belle was having the time of her life. For someone who had been terrified of the enchanted castle, she had been everywhere for the last two days, chatting with guests and seeing to room arrangements and organizing dinners. Pippa had wondered how Belle had managed to handle the meals…until she saw a maid pass by with her head covered in a pretty, decorative hood made of silk material, her face entirely concealed. Smart. She should have given Belle more credit.

  At least the party was almost over. There would be a ball that evening, and then the next day, the guests would leave and return to the village, and she and Belle could get back to trying to make the fairy tale happen. Somehow.

  7Unfortunately, Pippa wouldn't be able to get out of the ball. Nor the beast. They'd been able to hide out thus far, but everyone was expected to attend the ball, and Belle had told her that morning when they dressed that the beast would be the 'guest of honor.' As in, she wanted everyone to gawk at him so her party would be completely and utterly memorable.

  Pippa wasn't enthused. She knew Duncan didn't want strangers staring at him. And stare at him they would. Every time Pippa ventured into the halls, she met a villager or two that she had to pretend to know (the old Pippa must have been friendly with everyone in town) and they constantly asked her about one thing: the 'dreadful' beast of legend. No one listened when Pippa told them that the beast was actually very nice, and that his name was Duncan, and that he was a great fan of chess and intellectual pursuits.

  They wanted to know about his horrible claws and terrifying fangs.

  Eventually, Pippa just gave up and had gone for sheer avoidance, slipping out only at night.

  But tonight? There would be no avoiding.

  She left the beast's side reluctantly that afternoon, heading back to the chamber she shared with Belle to change into her ball gown.

  Belle turned as she entered, a vision of golden silk brocade and swirling, ruffled skirts.

  "Pippy! Hurry and dress! We don't want to miss a moment of the party!"

  "You look lovely," Pippa said sincerely. "Your dress turned out beautiful."

  Her sister beamed and twirled in her gown to show it off. While Pippa had been playing chess, Belle had been working hard on her dress. It had a low, square neckline that showed off the swells of Belle's breasts to their best advantage, and a tight stomacher thanks to doubled-up fabric and intricate laces on each side. The skirts had been ga
thered and puffed around the waistline before falling in ripples to the floor. She'd taken extra care with the back of the dress, creating a waterfall effect with multiple layers of skirts in different lengths. All of it was that smooth, pretty gold that matched her blonde hair and made her eyes look so bright and blue.

  Belle's curls had been pulled over one shoulder and tied into a loose tail, a matching yellow ribbon almost invisible amidst the sunny strands.

  In short, Belle looked very much like a fairy tale princess.

  "I'm having so much fun, Pippy," Belle said in a chirpy voice. "This party is magical."

  7"Well, it is in an enchanted castle," Pippa said, trying to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

  She would be happy when the guests were gone, but saying so would ruin Belle's deliriously happy mood, and she wasn't that cruel.

  "I finished your dress," Belle told her, and picked up a neatly folded pile of burgundy fabric.

  "Try it on so I can lace it at the right spots."

  Switching out of her outer dress, Pippa adjusted her chemise as Belle helped her into the ballgown. As Belle laced the sides, Pippa smoothed the skirts and considered it. Her gown was not nearly as ornate as Belle's—her neckline was a plain, deep vee that allowed the cut of her chemise to mask the swell of her breasts, and the sleeves were tight all the way down to her wrists. A puff of white chemise billowed out at the end, a decorative choice, she had learned over days of dressing in strange gowns, and the skirts fell simply to the floor in a heavy sweep of fabric. Not ornate like Belle's, but that was fine with Pippa. She didn't want to be the center of attention anyhow.

  "What about your hair?" Belle asked.

  Pippa shrugged. She normally pulled it into a loose braid and tried to forget about it. "Just a bun, I suppose. Something simple."

  With Belle's help, they had Pippa's dark hair pulled into a smooth knot at the base of her skull, and she looked very elegant. Plain, next to the vibrant and glowing Belle, but elegant. Not a hideous ugly stepsister, just a plain one, Pippa mused.

  With their clothing and hair made beautiful, there was nothing else to do but head to the party. Ignoring the nervous knot in her stomach, Pippa gave Belle a faint smile and followed her lead as they headed to the ballroom. "Is the beast on his way?"

  "I certainly hope so," Belle said cheerfully. "Everyone will be sorely disappointed if they don't get to see the beast at least once before leaving."

  That disturbed Pippa. It made him sound like a sideshow, and that's not what they were here for. "He's a nice man, Belle," Pippa said gently. "You should try spending time with him."

  "No, he's not a man at all," Belle said to her sister. "You keep forgetting that. He's a monster."

  Pippa had to bite back her retort. "He's not that at all. You'd know that if you didn't run away screaming every time you saw him."

  7Belle gave an unhappy sniff. "Pippy, you defend him so much, why don't you marry the beast?"

  I would if I could, she thought, and then was surprised at herself. Would she really? Marry the beast? The beast, who was cursed to dwell in this lonely castle with weird servants and no company? Who delighted in nothing more than spending the afternoon with her? Who kissed like a starving man and stared at her with hunger when she stood in front of the fire?

  Okay, yeah, she'd marry him.

  But that wasn't even an option for her, so she couldn't think about it. So all she said was, "Be fair, Belle."

  They entered the ballroom and Pippa was surprised at the crush of bodies squeezed into the long hall, the room overwarm. Hay—or rushes, as she’d been told—had been spread on the floor and people moved back and forth in their village finery. No one was dressed more spectacularly than Belle, but others wore floral wreaths and ribbons and wool dresses dyed in bright colors.

  Everyone looked as if they were having a truly exciting time, and all eyes turned to them when they entered the room.

  It was unnerving.

  Pippa hesitated. Belle surged forward, extending her hands and calling out greetings to everyone. She was genuinely excited for the party, and it was evident on her radiant face. Pippa followed behind a few steps, quietly nodding and smiling to those that greeted her, and she did her best to avoid eye contact, afraid they'd see her as a fraud. That someone would figure out she wasn't the real Philippa and then she'd have to explain herself and why she was there.

  But no one did.

  Pippa made it to the far side of the ball room, noticing that the decorations had been taken care of. Roses of a deep red hue dotted the tables along the walls, and the wild, thorny stems had been left in. They twined into decorative leafy vines and curled up wooden columns, making the room seem as if it were an extension of that wild, disturbing garden outside. On the walls hung the castle's lion banners in that same vibrant blood red. At the far end of the room, an ornate throne sat, empty.

  Of course—it was for the beast. Duncan, she reminded herself, feeling guilty that she'd think of him that way. He wasn't really a beast to her, not anymore. Belle's words had just polluted her thoughts.

  7The room was oddly quiet; Pippa kept expecting to hear the sounds of music, but all she heard were strains of muted, hushed conversation. As if everyone was waiting for something, and she knew exactly what that was. She hovered close to the beast's empty throne, waiting. He'd need a friend when he arrived, and she meant to be at his side.

  A few minutes later, the room went completely still, the whispers dying away to nothing.

  Pippa looked up and saw people beginning to part from the doors, and she knew without a doubt that Duncan had arrived. A moment later, the crowd shifted, parting like the Red Sea.

  Duncan strode forward, looking fearsome and magnificent as people cowered and trembled in his wake. He wore a majestic cloak made of the finest purple and trimmed with white ermine fur. The cloak’s tie was taut across his shoulders, and his jerkin was made of ornately tooled leather. The white sleeves of his shirt fluttered as he walked, and she couldn't help but stare at him. He looked magnificent. And she felt so incredibly proud of him for stalking out amongst the gossiping, wide-eyed villagers in their finery and putting them all to shame. The room was utterly silent except for the too-loud clop clop of his hooves on the floors.

  His golden cat-eyes scanned the room until he saw her. Then, he bared his teeth in another one of his smiles and began to make a bee-line for her. Pippa felt her cheeks flush with excitement. He looked so good. So handsome. So powerful. When he came to her side, he took her hand in his paw and lifted it to his lips. "You look ravishing," he said in a low voice that was almost a purr.

  Pippa smiled at him. "I could say the same for you. You clean up nice."

  But he continued to regard her as if she was the only one in the room, her hand still in his paw. And for a moment, it felt right and natural to be at his side.

  "You are missing something, I think," he commented in a low voice, ignoring the wide-eyed stares of the partygoers and the utter silence of the room. It was as if the two of them were in there alone.

  "Oh?"

  He reached out with his free hand and pulled one of the twining roses from a nearby vine, then snapped the stem. As she stood there, he lifted one paw and carefully set the flower behind her ear. "You still outshine its beauty," he murmured.

  Heat flushed through Pippa, and she reached out and touched the flower, feeling a blush warm her cheeks. The room felt all too hot at the moment, but she wouldn't leave for anything.

  7And as he sat in his throne, Pippa turned to the rest of the partygoers. People stood in shock, staring at the beast as if he were a monstrosity. Jaws hung open, as if the viewers could scarcely believe their eyes. There was fear in every gaze—fear, and loathing, and apprehension.

  In everyone’s eyes except for Belle's. To Pippa's surprise, Belle was giving her an appraising, thoughtful look. She wondered what was going through Belle's head.

  But the partygoers began to mingle once more, and the conversations
began to rise again.

  Belle swept through the room, radiating sheer enjoyment at being the center of attention, and the beast was forgotten for the moment as the party began again.

  "Well," Pippa said, glancing to her side at him in his throne. "I think that went well."

  "Aye," he said after a moment. "They're frightened of me, though. You saw the looks in their eyes."

  "Yes, but no one ran away screaming, no one pissed themselves in fear, and everyone's still enjoying themselves." She glanced down at him, at the heavy, decadent cloak on his shoulders.

  "Nice threads, by the way."

  "Threads?"

  "Clothes. You look very civilized tonight. Did you trim your mane?" She teased, reaching out to ruffle it…and then stopped. She shouldn't be so familiar with him. He wasn't hers.

  "You tease me," he said in that low, grumbly voice she was beginning to adore. "We both know that you outshine the stars in the night sky this evening."

  Oh wow. Pippa's mouth went dry. "I…thank you."

  He lifted her hand to his lips again. "I find that I enjoy the sight of you at my side. Very much."

  And she enjoyed being there, which would lead to nothing but trouble in the end.

  ~~***~~

  The night wore on, and Pippa realized that while she'd initially thought the partygoers had accepted Duncan's presence, she’d been wrong. There was a semi-circle radius around Duncan's throne that remained completely empty, as if everyone were afraid to approach. People avoided eye contact with him. They still talked in hushed whispers, and every time he so much as twitched, someone jumped.

  7It made Pippa's heart ache, just a little. So she stayed at his side, keeping him company with conversation and observances.

  Belle, meanwhile, was like a golden butterfly. She flitted in and out of the crowd, loving the attention that her exquisite gown got her. Not that she needed the gown—she was by far the most beautiful woman in the room, and she knew it, flirting and giggling with every man over the age of twelve and under the age of eighty. She charmed them all.