Beauty and the Beast: An Adult Fairytale Romance

by Vivienne Savage

  “They are too large for this table,” he grumbled, unamused.

  “Is your food raw? I could….” Anastasia’s voice trailed, courage wavering as she decided whether or not she could handle his dietary habits. “Many cultures, even among humans, consume raw flesh. The people of Liang do. I’ve tried it,” she declared proudly. “Father invited several of their dignitaries to Creag Morden and instructed our cooks to prepare supper in their preferred style.

  “Did you like it?” he asked curiously.

  “It wasn’t unpleasant,” she admitted. “I liked much of it, but I didn’t favor the white fish filets unless they were served with rice.”

  The corner of his wide mouth raised, and while it would have been unperceivable to anyone else, Ana saw the tiny hint of a smile.

  “Then why not dine with me,” she persisted. “Whatever you eat, it doesn’t matter. I feel strange sitting here across from you at this massive table while you only join me for conversation. Sometimes, I hear your belly rumbling, and I think to myself, ‘He must be starved. What a spoiled arse I am to eat in front of him like this.’”

  “You’re not an arse if it’s my preference.”

  “Please,” she asked again.

  Beast sighed. The dragon sat upon his hind legs on the floor at the end of the massive dining hall. One clawed hand raised toward his face and dropped again down to the floor. In her mind, she had the image of an exasperated man running his fingers through his hair and wondered how many of those mannerisms humans shared with higher beasts. “Once. And when it disgusts you, as it no doubt will, we’ll resume our meal hours in this way.”

  “Deal.”

  He kept his word, and the next day when Ana descended the staircase, she entered the dining hall to find a table set for two. While it still appeared absurdly empty, an enormous, covered serving platter occupied his end of the table. The cook had improvised, providing him an enormous bowl of ice water beside it.

  What horror waited beneath the platter? What prey did a dragon prefer, and better yet, how would he take his meal? He followed her, as usual, to pull her chair with one clawed hand. Instead of sitting, Ana studied the distance between their chairs.

  “Second thoughts, lass?” he guessed.

  “No. Not about this, anyway.” She stacked her plates and utensils, then retraced her steps to his end of the table. The dragon followed her, the apprehensive expression on his face adding to the emotional range Ana had learned already in his company.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Sitting beside you.”

  “Why?”

  “Are there other guests to join us? For what reason must I sit at the opposite end of the table, isolated and practically alone? I’d have to shout to talk to you.”

  “No true reason, I suppose. The table is arranged in the tradition of your homeland.”

  “Is this not the original dining table?”

  Beast shook his head.

  “I would like to see how Oclanders dine one day…. I’ve never favored our ways,” she murmured. “Eat with me, Beast. Please,” she pleaded.

  “As you wish,” he said in a quiet voice.

  Ana managed not to flinch when Beast unveiled his dinner. Steam rose from the seared flesh, but the succulent aroma made her mouth water.

  “My meal has revolted you,” he stated. With his claw, he recovered the roasted boar with the lid.

  “No! Far from it. It smells delightful,” Ana said. She rose and placed her hand atop one of his huge talons and nudged. “Please uncover it again. Did you do this yourself, or is there an oven within this castle large enough to bake such a monstrous hog?”

  “I did,” he confessed.

  “May I cut a portion for myself to accompany my supper?”

  He lowered to his haunches again and gestured with an extended claw. He gazed upon her with wonder in his eyes, as well as skepticism when Ana sliced into the unfortunate creature with the knife she’d used for her roast pheasant.

  A more squeamish princess would have turned her head when Beast lowered his head and ripped the first shreds of meat from his dinner. She watched instead, deliberately focused on the way his teeth closed around the flank.

  I will not shame him for being who he is. I won’t look away.

  A bone crunched between his massive teeth. She answered by raising her wine chalice for a sip. Through virtue of willpower and affection for him, she sliced into the crispy flesh on her own plate. The taste was rich, smoky and flavorful, a hint of expected game, but nothing offensive to her palate. She glanced up to see him watching her closely.

  “It’s good.”

  “It is?” His heavy brows shot up so high she thought they’d take flight. She giggled at the imagery.

  “I enjoy it very much and hope you’ll prepare another tomorrow.”

  “I will.” Lowering his chin and directing an intense, focused gaze to her face, Beast spoke the question she had come to expect during their supper. “Do you think you could love a beast such as me?”

  Each day, he prepared her another meal, another creature to share together, and each day he asked her some variety of his original inquiry.

  Could she love him? Did she feel affection for him?

  The questions didn’t end, but they no longer frightened her. Perhaps he needed reassurance of her happiness.

  And if it was that simple, she couldn’t fault him at all.

  “I feel friendship,” Ana told him by the third month of her pseudo-captivity. She sat on the balcony attached to her bedroom, its view overlooking the courtyard.

  “Friendship?” Beast asked. While standing on all fours on the level terrain outside, the dragon’s face was even with the balcony.

  “A close friendship with someone who has treated me well and given me anything I could see in even my fondest dreams. You’ve given me everything but the stars.”

  “Perhaps I should give you those too.”

  Chapter

  GENTLE, STEADY RAIN forced Ana to remain indoors as a turbulent and gray cloud cover spanned from one horizon to the next. Initially, she had considered guiding the storm away or attempting to disperse it, but a passage in the Witch Queen’s weather tome had advised against unnecessarily disturbing the natural state of the world. It cautioned young witches to respect nature.

  What good was such power if she couldn’t use it to her benefit? She read the passage again and asked Beast, who had chuckled again in his rich baritone. She loved his laughter and wanted to hear more of it.

  “In Cairn Ocland, the spirits of the skies, wind, water, and earth are our gods,” the dragon had replied.

  Which had promptly set her to fretting about practicing with the storm magic, certain she’d offended some goddess until he assured her magic used in study wasn’t the same as arrogance.

  So as days passed, Ana came to appreciate the frequent storms and heavy rain, but she continued to yearn for the countryside’s warm breeze. She especially missed charging across the plains with Sterling. How was her gentle mare? She could only hope Victoria stepped up in her absence and devoted the grooming care her dear friend deserved.

  Due to the unforgiving weather, Beast was also forced indoors. He joined her in the dining room, though he had declined breakfast and curled beside the large hearth fire instead to warm his scarlet hide.

  “You dislike the rain, don’t you?”

  “It is not my favorite,” he grumbled. “Have you ever seen a dragon sneeze? It is not fun.”

  Giggling, she imagined each sneeze accompanied by a jet of fire.

  “But I do like the rain at times. There are no tubs large enough for a dragon, you see, lass, so I have to make do with what I can find.”

  “There’s the lake,” she pointed out

  “Aye, and it’ll be frigid in a month or two.” He stretched on the stone floor with a groan.

  “Would you be more comfortable on a carpet?”

  “Anything is better than this floor, but this f
ire is the largest in the castle.”

  “Then come with me to the library,” Anastasia urged him.

  “What use would I have there among the many books?” Beast asked, bewildered.

  “It’s warm, for one. You can read with me.”

  Beast snorted. Twin plumes of white smoke exited the dragon’s nostrils, and he grumbled an irritated noise of discontent. “I cannot.”

  “Why not?”

  “My claws are too large for books.”

  “Oh. For a moment, I thought you planned to say you couldn’t read.”

  Beast said nothing, but the truth was in his expression.

  “You can’t read,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, I should have realized.” After all, how would a dragon learn to read human books?

  “Och, no. I can read.” He sighed, and the warmth of his breath stirred her hair, blowing strands around her face. He smelled like smoke and familiar things skimming the edge of her memory, almost masculine.

  What a silly thought to have, she chided herself, embarrassed. He was a man. A male dragon, but technically a man among his species.

  “Not well?” she asked.

  Beast nodded.

  Sensing the dragon’s embarrassment, Ana cupped her palm against his scaled cheek. “Then I will read to you. Please, come with me. The doors are large enough. I’m positive it’s one of the few rooms in this castle able to hold you.”

  Beast gave her an uncertain look, but he followed without further complaint. Their path led up the stairs and into the library where she propped open the heavy doors with a pair of ornate wedges. Everything about Benthwaite Castle was beautiful, from the intricately designed stairway railings to the door stops designed to resemble vines. She sighed at the beauty, and Beast laughed at her.

  “Of all the things to admire in this castle, you choose the wedges for the door.”

  “I can’t help it. They’re beautiful and I never noticed it before.”

  “There are many things in this castle you’ve never noticed.”

  “Too true. I find it more breathtaking with each passing day, like a mystery to unravel.” She flounced into the room and twirled near the center of the floor, skirts spinning around her legs. “Come join me, Beast! There’s plenty of room, see?”

  He prowled forward, and with his wings folded against his body, he cleared the wide double doors with ease.

  “Much time has passed since I stepped beyond these doors,” he murmured.

  Were those tears in his eyes? He turned in a circle to view the entire floor, with its wall-to-ceiling rows of shelves and upper level accessible by stairs.

  Just who was he to the Witch Queen and her mount? Curiouser and curiouser, she began to form her own speculations. He had to be the great dragon’s son, perhaps the lone survivor of King Frederick’s siege.

  “I have found many books here, from fiction to gnomish science. What would you like to hear?” she asked.

  “I would enjoy any story spoken from your lips,” Beast said.

  Chuckling, she ran her fingers over the assortment of favorites she’d collected from the shelves over the course of many weeks’ visits. She kept them close at hand to read on a whim. Finding tomes written in her native tongue had been surprisingly easy, the library a match of both languages.

  “Romance or a little mystery? I translated this Langese love story with a lingual charm. Beast? What is your native tongue?”

  “Oclander,” he replied.

  “Yet you know my language, too. Why is that?”

  He shrugged. “Know thy enemy, for knowledge is the way to his destruction,” he recited.

  “Is that the only reason?”

  “Dalborough has long haunted this kingdom. We learned their language, and by proxy, yours as well, so that we would know the evil our enemies speak to us before we removed their tongues.”

  She shivered. “Romance, it is,” she muttered to herself. Beast overheard her and laughed.

  In a clear voice, she read aloud from the storybook while her dragon curled beside the fireplace on his stomach, his chin resting over the top of his claws. Whenever she lifted her gaze from the pages, she found him devoted to her words and watching with all of his attention.

  By the second hour, she desired a glass of water. To her surprise, or perhaps not even to her surprise anymore, she saw a glass beside her on the table.

  “It’s magic, isn’t it? This is an enchanted castle,” Ana said.

  “It is,” Beast confirmed. “Though it only took you months to notice.”

  She scrunched her nose in response to his teasing. He’d become more open and playful over the recent weeks as their friendship progressed. “I had convinced myself it was Hora tiptoeing around the halls, but I suppose I’ve known all along it couldn’t be her. I’ve read of these so many times in fairy tales but never believed I would enter one.” She sipped the sweet spring water and resumed their story.

  Beast interrupted her for the first time as they neared the end of the tale. She had abandoned her seat at the table to sit beside him on the carpet with her legs folded beneath her.

  “Do you believe in such things?”

  “Which?” she asked.

  “True love’s kiss.”

  Anastasia contemplated his question. “My mother and father were truly in love. Were yours?”

  “Very much. But a kiss did not save them.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “It happened many years ago and is no fault of yours, Princess. Please, finish your story.”

  Ana set the book aside and leaned forward to place a hand on his face. “We can stop if it’s bringing up bad memories.”

  “You didn’t make me sad, Anastasia. Memories did,” he told her in a gentle voice. His eyes closed as she splayed her fingers over his cheek. Heat radiated from the glossy scales, and they truly did resemble fire captured in flakes of amber. “And sometimes, memories are all I have.”

  “You have me.” Startled, amber and green eyes opened to dart to her face. She caressed the ridge above his eye and smiled. “You’re my friend, Beast. Maybe the best friend I’ve had in a long while besides my cousin Victoria.”

  “Me?”

  “You listen to me.”

  He blinked and said nothing while Ana watched her own reflection in his enormous eyes. She stroked his nose again. “And you’ve never hurt me.”

  “I never will.” His eyes drifted to the window where the storm had broken, revealing patches of starry sky between intermittent wisps of cloud. Abruptly standing, Beast stretched out his long body and shifted his tail over the carpeted floor. “Let us save the rest of the tale for another day. I wish to show you something new.”

  “Where?”

  “It’s a secret. You’re not allowed to know until we arrive so you must close your eyes.” She crinkled her nose, and after a moment, the dragon continued with an amused, “Your face will freeze that way.”

  “You sound like my mother,” she grumbled. “I do not like surprises.”

  “You’ve liked the others, and you will like this one.” Beast tilted his head and gazed at her with gentle eyes. “Do I still have your trust, Princess?”

  The question took her by surprise, but when she looked into his green, gold-flecked eyes, she saw only sincerity. A strange sense in the back of her mind told her to speak. “Yes.”

  With her eyes closed, Beast guided her up the castle stairs to the next level. He walked on all fours, and she felt the occasional nudge of his snout against her shoulder. His warm breath rustled her hair, tickling her neck, and she giggled as she felt in front of her.

  “This way,” he encouraged her.

  They ascended another flight, and then another. She counted and furrowed her brow when she realized they were heading to the forbidden upper level.

  “Here,” Beast said. His claws, warm to the touch, guided her hand to a banister.

  One more flight. The fifth floor. A door creaked o
pen and the cold breeze rushed inside against her cheeks.

  “Now you may look,” he said.

  Ana opened her eyes to the sight of a round chamber with multiple windows. A giant brass telescope dominated the center of the room, positioned on a raised platform and angled out the northern window

  “This is… it’s an astronomy tower!” she cried gleefully. “You said you would give me the stars one day and you did it!”

  “The telescope rotates,” Beast told her in a quiet voice. When he squeezed in behind her and wiggled the front of his body into the space, his sides scraped against the inside of the open doors. Where he touched, the stone around the threshold gleamed. Either Alistair or another dragon before him had worn it smooth.

  “The stars are so clear here in the mountains, and this will bring them even closer. Oh, I wish you could look, too.”

  Her dragon couldn’t get his wings past the door.

  “Seeing your happiness is enough,” Beast replied. “Each of the windows are hinged. The Storm King, father of the Witch Queen, favored this room and spared no expense in its construction. Stories say he would spend hours here each day and that the scope is enchanted to see beyond the range of any mundane magnifying instrument. He knew whenever there were troubles in his villages, with bandits or invaders, and would fly upon the clouds themselves to resolve dilemmas.”

  Blinking didn’t alleviate the burning sensation behind her eyelids. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you doesn’t feel adequate. It’s amazing! It’s—I can’t find words to tell you how wonderful this is, Beast.”

  Ana threw herself at the dragon and found the perfect spot to hold him, her body pressed in the groove between his neck and shoulder.

  “You could always marry me,” Beast offered playfully.

  Ana giggled and caressed the ridges on his snout. “If I could marry any dragon, it would probably be you,” she whispered. “Thank you, Beast.”

  “Disregard anything I may have said about the fourth floor, princess. You may come and go as you please. This is your home, and at home, you shall know only peace.”