It was a more difficult prospect, of course, because it required that she be attempting to reach me at the exact moment that I was attempting to listen. But the more I understood and perfected my ability to listen, the more likely I would hear her next time she projected. The thought excited me enough that I didn’t want to wait.
I settled myself more comfortably against the wall and closed my eyes. At first, I strained my ears, as I had done moments before, and I had to remind myself that I had never used my mouth or ears to project with Lily. Instead I tried to clear my mind and focus on what it felt like to hear her voice in my mind.
Hurry up!
I flinched with shock at the clear words.
Lily! I responded instinctively, reaching out for our familiar connection. But instead I hit the mental wall, feeling nothing but a cold emptiness where my usual sense of my sister lay. I took a deep breath, shaking slightly from shock.
I had heard the words. I was sure I hadn’t imagined them. I replayed them in my mind and realized the voice had sounded nothing like Lily’s. And the words themselves made no sense. I closed my eyes and listened again, this time focusing on the sensation of making my mind receptive, of opening it to whatever path my projections traveled. I made no effort to cast my own thoughts out, and I similarly put away all thought of my sister or the familiar cadence of her thoughts.
If you weren’t so busy gossiping, Tara, you wouldn’t have dropped the platter. Now what are we to use to serve the prince’s potatoes?
Yes! I cheered myself silently.
Oh hush, Gilda, you’re always complaining. The castle has a hundred platters.
Watch your tongue, girl, or I’ll make sure you’re sent out to the stables to shovel manure.
As an outraged gasp sounded inside my mind, I carefully peered back into the kitchen. Most of the food had been cleared away, but a dish hung frozen half inside a large sink of water and several other items hung in various positions around the room.
You’re not head chef, yet, Gilda. A third voice entered the conversation, deep and slow. So don’t get ahead of yourself.
I’m just trying to keep order, Matthew. The Gilda voice sounded grumpy, but she offered no further comment, and the various frozen objects began to move again.
I swallowed and whipped my head back out of sight. For a long moment I simply sat there, making no effort to move or even to listen. Now that I had stopped trying, the inaudible whispers sounded again.
I closed my eyes and pictured the scene in the kitchens. Apparently, it was spirits who served the Beast and his castle. I shivered. Except the conversation hadn’t sounded much like otherworldly spirits. In truth, Gilda sounded very like a head chambermaid from my own palace who had always secretly terrified me a little. And Matthew had sounded so much like a stable master that I could almost picture him. They certainly sounded nothing like spirits.
I considered another interpretation. Invisible servants. I chewed on a fat curl of hair while I rolled the idea over in my mind. So many things began to make sense. The missing people of Palinar. The doors that opened themselves. My guides through the castle. The unmanned coach. Even the words I had heard my first night in the coach when I had been half asleep, my mind relaxed.
A new thought hit me and two tears leaked down my face unheeded. I was not alone here with the Beast, after all. I had a whole castle of potential companions, if I could only find a way to communicate with them. Seeing them would be nice, too, but definitely secondary.
A tiny part of me felt sad to realize that no magical force had been assisting my efforts to defeat the Beast, but I thrust it aside. The inhabitants of the castle had helped when I had asked, which suggested they were friendly. And I preferred a friend to an inhuman magical purpose, even if that magic was helping me.
I reached out with my mind for the voices I had heard, trying to connect with their conversation, but I heard nothing. I frowned and tried again. Still nothing. The sensation of reaching out for Lily and connecting with her mind felt so familiar that I couldn’t understand why it wasn’t working now. I tried again without success. I couldn’t even hear the whispers now.
I stopped trying and relaxed, and the whispers rushed back. I could understand now why I had been unable to hear them more clearly by listening harder. They weren’t a physical sound, but a brushing against my mental awareness.
I resisted the urge to attempt to connect to any of them, or to the people behind them, as I usually did with Lily. Instead, I replicated my earlier efforts, opening my mind to an extra awareness and focusing merely on being receptive.
Aren’t you finished yet?
Sorry, Gilda. The voice sounded young, like a child, and guilty.
You always say that, and yet you’re always slow. How sorry can you really be? I detected a note of affection under Gilda’s harsh words.
I expanded my awareness.
So, then he invited me to go walking with him after the chores are done.
He didn’t!
Really! Several mental giggles sounded along with the words.
I crawled forward to peer into the kitchen again. It was a different sort of listening from what I was used to with Lily. With my twin, it took no effort at all, a mental connection that bonded me directly to her and required the merest thought from either of us to spring into being. This felt more like opening a new set of mental ears to the general chatter of the world. I could feel no sense of the person behind the words, and I had no channel to receive an impression of their emotions or wellbeing like I usually did with Lily.
But I found, with concentration, I could tell the direction the voices came from. I identified that the voices of the girls giggling over one of the grooms came from several sinks where dishes appeared to wash themselves. And that the voices of Gilda and the boy came from a silver fork that was being polished by an industrious cloth floating in the air.
Matthew, the one who had sounded so much like my old stable master, hadn’t spoken again, so I couldn’t be sure where he might be positioned. For all I knew he had left the room.
A loud mental gasp rang out, but it ended too quickly for me to tell where it had come from.
I recognized the shocked response as coming from Gilda, however. It’s Princess Sophia!
I had been caught. I bit my lip and looked around the room at the flying items, not sure where to direct my gaze.
Where? I want to see her!
What’s she doing here?
What’s she doing on the floor?
A flush crept up my face at my foolish position. I scrambled up off my hands and knees and stepped into the room. “Good evening,” I said aloud with as much confidence as I could muster while brushing off my hands. “I don’t suppose someone could find me some food?”
She’s speaking to us!
Well, not to us exactly. One of the chambermaids told me that she sometimes speaks to the castle. She’s very polite, apparently.
Except to the prince. I heard she told him off.
Told off the prince! I wouldn’t dare!
Well of course you wouldn’t—as is right. You’re a scullery maid, not a princess. Gilda sounded disapproving of the girls but did nothing to silence their conversation, obviously as certain as the rest that I couldn’t hear them.
Oh, and you would, Gilda? I thought I recognized the defiant Tara. He was scary even before the curse.
As scary as he was handsome, said one of the gigglers.
I think she must be very brave, added Tara, and my heart instantly warmed to her.
She’s as beautiful as we’d hoped, said a voice I didn’t recognize.
But why was she crawling around on the floor? The last voice sounded much more doubtful about me than the others.
I cleared my throat. “I apologize for disturbing you, but I would greatly appreciate some food if you could find some. Just some bread and cheese would be sufficient.”
I don’t know that His Highness would want us to feed her after she
refused his invitation. Gilda sounded torn.
I suppressed a snort. Invitation. That was one name for his curt command.
But she’s a princess, Gilda. Surely we can’t disobey her! I got the distinct impression Tara was merely attempting to distress the more senior woman.
We can hardly let our royal guest starve, said the voice I recognized as Matthew. And she’s to be our mistress, is she not? Seems to me she’s as much right as any to be giving orders around here.
I’m not sure that His Highness would see it quite that way, said the earlier doubting voice. He seemed to be located near Matthew, and I wondered if he was a footman or a groom.
My stomach grumbled loudly, and I lost my patience. “I don’t care how ‘His Highness’ sees it. I am not the Beast’s prisoner, and I will not be constrained by his orders.”
Shocked silence filled the room.
Chapter 8
Can she…can she hear us?
Impossible! But the doubting footman (or groom) didn’t sound quite sure.
“Certainly I can hear you,” I said calmly, as if such a circumstance was to be expected.
She must truly be the one! The scullery maid sounded breathless.
“The one? What one?”
Never mind their babble, Your Highness, said Gilda quickly, clearly trying to turn the subject. Have a seat, and let me get you some food. I’m sure we can find something more suitable than bread and cheese.
“Truly, I don’t want to be a bother.” I was grateful for my years of practice with Lily, because it felt strange speaking aloud in response to a mental projection. But I wasn’t confident I could project in the general way they did. I felt grateful enough I had worked out how to hear them.
Bother? No, indeed. You must forgive our foolish words before. Ah. Gilda’s change of tone now made sense. She must be scrambling to remember what they had all said previously.
But I had no desire to alienate the first people I had spoken to in days. Excluding the Beast, of course. “Thank you, and I can’t imagine what you mean.”
Please, have a seat. The kitchen tables were lined with long benches that could be tucked away when not in use, but the head and foot had wide, elaborately carved wooden chairs. One of them scraped backwards, presumably pulled out by one of the invisible servants, and I carefully made my way toward it.
I hadn’t collided with anyone in my days at the castle, so I assumed they had all been making some effort to avoid me. But walking among them still made me uncomfortable. I had to resist the urge to stretch my arms out in front of me as I moved.
As I sat, sudden conversation burst out all around me, along with a flurry of sound from various plates and pots and cupboards. Trying to follow their words alongside the cacophony of actual noise hurt my head. I let my concentration drop away, and the words faded back into whispers. I could only hope it became easier with practice, or I would spend each day in a perpetual headache.
When I realized a platter of food had been hovering beside me for some time, I started and reopened my awareness.
Apologies, Your Highness, is something not to your liking? The tone sounded a little snide, and I was almost certain it belonged to the doubter from earlier—a footman, then.
“No, indeed, I apologize. It looks delicious.” The food started traveling from the platter to my plate on a large silver spoon. I watched it, too fascinated to look away. “May I ask your name?”
Connor, Your Highness.
Several other voices started talking at once, and I held up my hand. Silence fell. “I’m afraid it’s rather difficult to follow a conversation when you can’t see any of the speakers.” My connection with Lily was so close that I didn’t need her body language to understand her words. Plus, there was only one of her. It was astonishingly difficult to follow an invisible group such as this. “I’ll need you to project a bit more slowly, and one at a time.”
Project? What do you mean? The curious child’s voice sounded from the far corner of the room where he had no doubt been banished following my arrival.
Hush, Gordon! Don’t disturb Her Highness. I could have anticipated Gilda’s rushed response.
“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind.” I looked in the direction of the voice. “Gordon, is it?”
After a moment of silence, one of the scullery maids whispered, She can’t see you, idiot! and Gordon mumbled a quick, Yes, Your Highness.
I grinned, sure he must have initially nodded in response. “I don’t hear you with my ears, but rather in my mind. Projecting is merely what I call such communication—when you send out your thoughts rather than speaking aloud.”
I don’t know anything about thoughts, Gordon sounded confused. I’m just speaking like always.
“Oh.” I looked around, wishing I wasn’t surveying a room of empty air. “I think someone needs to tell me exactly what is going on here.”
Silence reigned, and I imagined them all looking at each other, wondering who was going to speak. I had already pictured faces for them all, I couldn’t help myself.
Well, Your Highness, said Matthew at last, it seems we’ve all been caught up in some sort of…curse. His voice hesitated strangely over the word, and my brows drew together. As best we can tell, we’ve all been sort of…moved sideways. Into some other realm, I suppose. He sounded uneasy with the talk of other realms. We can see, hear and interact with each other like normal. And we can interact with objects just fine. But we soon discovered no one outside Palinar can see or hear us at all. We have our animals with us even. He paused, and I thought of the coach that I had assumed to be horse and driver-less. Which is why we weren’t expecting Your Highness to be so astute, and why we know nothing of this projection you speak of.
He paused again as if hoping for some sort of explanation, but I remained silent, unwilling to tell him of my gift. When he said nothing more, I prodded him. “But why have you been cursed?”
Another moment of awkward silence and then Gilda rushed in. Well, as to that, Your Highness, who can say? Certainly not the likes of us.
I frowned. It was easy to tell they knew more than they were saying. I let it go for now. “But what of the Beast, and his horses? I can see them well enough.”
Matthew made a sound like a throat clearing.
At first the royals were excluded. Alone in a kingdom without man or beast. But then a godmother came and allowed the young prince to see and hear us, here in the bounds of his own castle. She even gave him back his favorite mounts.
He spoke as if the godmother had been granting the prince a favor, yet his beastly shape suggested otherwise. Or had that been part of the original curse, and she had been unable to lift it for some reason? Clearly there was far more to this story than the servants were willing to reveal. What were they hiding? And who did they seek to protect with their silence?
“And what of King Nicolas and Queen Ruby? Are they at the palace in the capital? Why have they not sought assistance from the other kingdoms?”
No, young princess, Matthew’s voice sounded heavy and weary. Their Majesties are no longer with us.
I frowned at his cryptic choice of words, spooning food into my mouth to give me a chance to think. So the king and queen were dead. And no one wanted to tell me how. Or why the kingdom had been cursed. What would they tell me, then?
“Why did the Beast…” A rustle sounded at my choice of name, but I ignored it. “Why did he call the Princess Tourney? Why did he seek a betrothal when he cannot even speak?”
You’ll have to ask the young prince that for yourself, Princess Sophia.
“Princess Sophie,” I said without thinking. “No one calls me Sophia.” I took another bite.
A sudden roar, resounding through both my mind and my ears, made me wince and drop food into my lap.
What is going on here? The Beast’s anger was far more intimidating now that I could hear him in my mind as well. I wiped up the spilled food before I looked up at him, giving myself a chance to regain my composure
. Several of the servants were attempting to babble explanations, and I didn’t try to separate out their words, although I did keep my mind receptive, curious to hear the Beast speak again.
I gave clear commands that no evening meal was to be served except in the dining hall. His voice vibrated with the same power and authority that he wore so easily on his misshapen body. It was even deeper than I had imagined, as if a growl lurked behind every word.
The servants fell silent while I looked at him as calmly as I could manage and took another large bite. His eyes narrowed, and his hand trembled slightly. Answer me!
Once again it was Matthew who took the lead. Aye, that you did, young master. He spoke with the same measured tones he had done before the Beast’s arrival. But the young princess ordered different. And who are we to disobey royalty?
The Beast curled his hand into a fist. It is my orders that will be obeyed in this castle. Do you hear me? He took two long strides forward and swept his fist across the table, catapulting my plate against the far wall. I flinched, and he fell back half a step, a strange expression crossing his face.
Don’t you be forgetting that’s your betrothed, there, young master, said Matthew, and I admired his courage. I was still trying to calm my pounding heart.
The Beast whirled around to glare at where I presumed Matthew to be sitting. Not by my choice, as I need not remind you. His words came out low and dangerous. I allow you too much license, Stable Master.
I shot to my feet. It was Matthew who had at least begun to answer my questions, and now he had stood up to the Beast for me. I could not allow him to be threatened in such a way.
The Beast swiveled to stare at me, and I met his eyes. “Then I will now remind you that I am your betrothed. And a princess of Arcadia. It is time for your imperious orders to cease. And if you make any further attempts to prevent me from eating, you will not like the consequences, I assure you.”
A Tale of Beauty and Beast: A Retelling of Beauty and the Beast (Beyond the Four Kingdoms Book 2) Page 6
