In a few more minutes, she was asleep and didn’t budge when the door opened again.
14
“Her head has quite a bump. I’m afraid she might be out for a bit, but I’ll continue to try and wake her periodically. We must hope she doesn't slip into an unconscious state. I tucked her in for now and brought her fresh clothes for when she awakes,” Mrs. Hausmeister finally stopped by to inform him.
“Did she say anything?” Beast asked in his usual growl.
“Well, she muttered something that sounded like a name. Leuthar, it was I believe. Then she dropped back off.”
“Her brother,” Beast spoke, and again the desire to hurt the coward came upon him.
The feeling was at war within him. It fought against his usual disinterested notions. Unsure how he felt about this unexpected emotion, he frowned at his servants and focused his frustration on them.
“Well, get to it then! Stop standing around and wasting time.”
He walked away and plopped down onto his chair before the table. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his favorite servant pass a look at Mrs. Hausmeister that annoyed him. Buford seemed to find his attitude amusing, if he read the look correctly.
“Buford, bring that tray in here, and then get about your business!” he grumbled.
Placing the tray on the table, Buford left. As he exited, Beast caught the old man's smile and threw a spoon at him. Unfortunately, it hit the door and not his disrespectful servant.
Beast kept checking in on Roz throughout the night. She slept soundly and didn’t wake up unless Mrs. Hausmeister roused her. Grumpy, she didn’t respond well to each time she was forced into consciousness.
“Really? Can’t a girl get any sleep around here? Is this some form of primitive torture? It’s not okay.”
“Just checking on your head, my dear. How does it feel?”
“A lot better when you let me sleep. Can you stop?”
“This will be the last time. It’s only a few hours until morning.”
Roz turned over and yawned. She was asleep within minutes. Beast watched as Mrs. Hausmeister settled back on the sofa before ending the scene.
“Show me Leuthar,” he told the mirror.
Checking in on the boy all day, he’d found him at work, at training, and home for dinner. Leuthar had acted natural the whole time. He hadn’t exhibited anger or even concern over his missing sister.
All of Roz’s family and friends continued their lives without any thought of her. Beast realized she was safe, for now. The spell wouldn’t continue for long, and he planned to keep an eye on Leuthar the entire time.
Right now, the boy was doing what he’d done a few nights ago. He was in the field, raiding the pantry, and napping out in the woods. He didn’t stagger out of the trees until right before dawn.
Beast rubbed his eyes and stretched out in his chair. His night would continue right here, in front of the mirror, where he always was.
“Sir?”
“You still awake, Buford?” Beast asked, without turning.
“Always, sir. I wanted to inquire if you needed anything?”
“How’d you know I was awake?”
“It is a butler’s duty to always be aware of what’s happening. Is there anything I can get you?”
Stretching, Beast stood and looked at his faithful servant. “How do you feel about tea, Buford?”
“Are you asking me whether I like tea or not?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“Well, sir, I love tea. I’d be happy to fix you some.”
“Fix enough for yourself. If we’re both going to be up, we might as well drink it together.”
Nodding, Buford’s large eyes brightened. “Yes, sir. Right away.”
After he’d gone, the beast paced back and forth while keeping an eye on Leuthar. He had disappeared inside his home, and now the lights were on as the father prepared to leave for the day. Dawn was coming, and it seemed to be business as usual.
Except for the beast. He had a guest in his home who didn’t want to be there. Soon, he’d have to meet her. The fact that his death hovered in the air around her didn’t sit well with him either. Choices were not his strength any longer.
“Oh, for the good old days, when I wanted to attack the Second Kingdom and had the gumption and tenacity to do so. Now, I hide from humans with guns. Now, I’m afraid of death.” Shaking his head, he walked the length and width of the room until he found himself in front of the mirror once again.
The door opened behind him, and he could see Buford entering with the tray. Beast came forward to take it, and Buford shut the door. He placed it on the table and poured himself and Buford a cup.
“Do you like sugar or honey in your tea?” Beast asked.
“Sugar, sir. Allow me,” Buford took over.
“Do you take milk too?” Beast inquired, as he watched Buford finish his own.
Putting the last spoonful of sugar in his tea, Buford nodded and picked up the milk pitcher. He poured it in until the dark brew turned a light brown. Both took a seat at the table, and Beast stretched his legs out.
“The things I don’t know,” the beast murmured and took a sip.
Buford smiled before taking a sip of his own tea. They sat in silence for a few more minutes and drank. Beast replenished his cup, held the teapot out to Buford, and filled his as well. Three spoonfuls of sugar and a dash of milk later, they sat back.
“How long have you been with my family, Buford?”
“Fifty years, sir.”
“Fifty? You don’t look a day over forty! How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
The warm liquid made him feel comforted. Tea had a way of doing that. It was the one thing he still shared with his parents.
“Thank you, sir. I don’t mind, sir. I’m sixty-three, or one hundred sixty-two depending on how you look at it.”
“You can’t be! So, you started here when you were thirteen?”
“I started coming here when I was thirteen. My father was the butler at that time, and my brother was your head gardener. I followed them around and helped with odds and ends.”
“So, you decided to stick around?”
Buford shrugged. “My father wanted me to follow in his footsteps, and your parents liked me. There weren’t any other careers I took a fancy to, and this position was one which made me proud. It made my father proud.”
“Was it important? To make your father proud?”
Sighing, Buford nodded. “Isn’t it always?”
Beast shrugged. “Most days, I don’t think my father even liked me. Everything I suggested, he didn’t approve and contradicted. Was your father as difficult to please?”
“He had his moments. I wanted to learn the drums in high school. I can definitively say the project didn’t go over well.”
“Really? Drums? I haven’t heard those in a really long time. Were you in a band, Buford?”
“I was. For four years, but we broke up when we headed to different colleges. It wasn’t something which would have lasted anyway. We did it for fun, but not to last.”
“No aspirations of fame?”
Buford shook his head and set his tea cup down. “No, we just enjoyed playing gigs and hanging out after school. What did you enjoy doing, sir?”
“Riding,” the beast started, “reading, and art. My father approved of the first, especially if it involved hunting, as well as reading, but he was not found of my love of art. He told me having an appreciation was one thing but trying to do it would be another.”
“I’m sure he wanted you to focus on ruling. You are a prince after all.”
Beast tilted his head from side to side and thought. “I know. He didn’t let me forget. It was so much easier to get along with him when I was younger.”
“I suppose it always is. As we grow, we become our own men, and fathers have a hard time letting go. I gave up drums because I wanted to do so. Why did you give up art?”
/> “Father made sure I was too busy. He enrolled me to take a business degree in college. Technology, foreign languages and relations, and just about anything else which didn’t include art. He kept me busy with meetings and learning the ways of the throne. I was so busy I couldn’t breathe.”
Buford poured another cup of tea and filled Beast’s cup as well. For the first time in years, he reclined back in a chair. He dropped his proper stance and relaxed.
“Well, sir, you might say it was his duty to prepare you for yours. Now, that you’re grown, you can make your own choices.”
“Call me Ezra, Buford. Not sir or king or sire, but just Ezra. It’s been so long since anyone has actually called me by my name. Now, I’m the beast,” he said and shook his head. “I think making my own choices led us to where we are today.”
“Everyone makes mistakes,” Buford commented.
Laughing more of a growl than a chuckle, Beast shook his head. “Mistake? That’s what you call the last hundred years? I’ve destroyed this world. My father should have let me paint. I think it would have been a lot less dangerous.”
“Sir—”
“Ezra,” the beast countered.
Buford hesitated. “Ezra, you thought it was a good choice at the time because they had something you didn’t understand. Your judgement was clouded with your parent’s death and the war. It could happen to anyone.”
“It didn’t happen to just anyone, Buford. It happened to me. I should have known better.”
The butler nodded. They fell back into silence. Finishing the tea, they sipped the last bit without a word.
“If I may, sir – Ezra, you wanted to save the world. You believed the Second Kingdom shouldn’t be the only ones with powers because it made a future fight unbalanced. I can understand that.”
Shaking his head, the beast sighed. “No, I didn’t. The reason was because I wanted the power. I wanted to be someone greater than my father. Apparently, I had daddy issues.”
“We all do to a certain extent. Yours just transpired when you had an army to agree with you. Most of them, at least.”
“You didn’t agree with me. I remember it clearly enough. You made every effort to stop me. I should have listened to you.”
Resting his arms on the sides of the chair, Buford folded his hands in front of him and listened.
Beast tapped a long, blue-purple nail against his cup. A slight ting echoed throughout the room. He thought back to the day he’d become a beast.
The witch queen had entered his rooms without a sound. Her voice was a melody to his ears, and she was so beautiful, it hurt to look at her. Her eyes hypnotic, red-gold beneath her blond brows. Her hair was the exact shade of wheat, rich and golden-brown. It had curled over dress which was made of the blackest of black material.
Picturing her in his mind, he shivered. A sweat broke out over his brow. Queen Ada stared at him now. Her skin so translucent, and her eyes so bright like a blood-red sun.
For a second, he couldn’t catch his breath. Sweat poured into his eyes. He tensed, and his muscles contracted. He could feel her in his head.
Her lips didn’t even seem to move as she spoke to him, “This is who you really are. The beast within is now without.”
“Ezra! Sir!” Buford stood over him, shaking his shoulder.
Gasping, the beast sucked in a breath. Shivering, he shook his head and held up a hand. “I’m all right, Buford. I was thinking of that day, and I realized I’ve always been a beast. This is who I am.”
“Sir, no you’re not. You forget, I knew you as a little boy. I knew what you were like and how you tried to be the son your father wanted. He may have been hard on you, but I know he loved you.”
“Yet, look at what I’ve become.”
“You have looked better,” Buford joked. He took a step back and nodded to the windows across the room. “A new day has begun. New choices can be made.”
“Do you know why I didn’t listen to you on that day, Buford?”
“No, sir.”
“You’re too much like my father.”
“So, I annoy you, sir.”
“Only when you call me sir. Otherwise, I respect you too much. You’re a lot to live up to,” the beast told him and stood.
Eye to eye, Beast found Buford’s were filling with tears. “It means a lot to hear you say so, my boy.”
Beast nodded and rested his hand on the butler’s shoulder. “Thanks for sitting with me. It’s nice to have someone to talk to again.”
“You’ll always have that, sir. Now, I’m going to go down and see how breakfast is coming along. Will you speak to the girl today?”
“If she’s ready, I think it’d be wise.”
“Something tells me she will be, sir. I’ll bring more tea soon.” He collected the cups and placed them back on the tray.
“Thanks, Buford.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Buford.”
“I mean, Ezra. I’ll let you know when Mrs. Hausmeister has anything to report.”
Beast nodded and walked to his chair in front of the mirror. It showed Leuthar walking out of his house and in the direction of his work building. He followed the boy until he entered his job before ending the visual.
In front of him, the mirror showed a vampirish corpse glaring back at him. His hair had turned pure black with red streaks when the witch queen turned him, and even though he trimmed it regularly, he allowed the length to stay at his shoulders.
His eyes were hers. Blood red with a golden ring around the iris. The pupil was blacker than their sun. A blue tint stained his skin, and his height rivaled Queen Ada’s. He cleared six feet and came closer to seven.
Long fingernails brushed over the skin of his cheek and across his teeth. Fangs crooked between his lips, sharp and as deadly looking as a piranha’s. He closed his mouth and shook his head at the ugly sight.
Her words whispered in his ear, as if she stood right next to him, “If you don’t gain an understanding of love beyond power, you will always be a slave to it.”
“I don’t understand,” he spoke aloud. He looked around the empty room, and repeated, “I don’t understand.”
Making a turn, he whispered, “I wish I could go back and change my decision. I would. I would change it in a heartbeat. Can’t you end this? Please?”
No one responded.
“Convenient,” he muttered. Sighing, he added, “Show me Roz.”
She was still asleep. Mrs. Hausmeister was in the room, setting a tray on the table, and shaking out clothes. It looked as if she had dug a pant suit out of one of the previous queen’s closet. She was laying it over one of the chairs.
He stayed for a moment. Seeing his uninvited guest terrified him, but at the same time, it gave him a weird sort of comfort. Somehow, he suspected she had the answers he needed.
“Time to get dressed. Mirror, go black.”
It did as he asked, allowing him the opportunity not to catch his reflection, and he turned to begin his day.
15
Swoosh! The knife almost got him in the heart. He knocked it out of her hand and had her wrapped in a stronghold before thirty seconds had passed.
She was a lot stronger than she appeared to be. Very tall, he had no doubt she would have been near his height when he had still been a man. Still, this paired with her speed were of only minor irritation to him.
Gasping for air, she kicked at his legs and tried to claw his arms.
“Let. Me. Go!” she shouted.
He did. He dropped her immediately. She landed with a thud on the floor. However, she didn't stay down as he had thought she would. She landed, grabbed the knife which had bounced to a spot at their feet and spun around, slashing out.
He slapped the knife out of her hand before she blinked. However, he didn't expect her to drop to the floor, roll, and pick up the knife from where it had landed two feet away. Heaving air in and out, she stood prepared to strike out once more.
“You're f
aster in person,” he told her with a dry, unaffected tone.
“What?” she asked. He'd thrown her off guard.
“You're. Faster. In. Person,” he repeated slowly.
“What do you mean in person?”
She was quick, he'd give her that.
“Well, you're here. In person. And you're fast. It's merely a comment.”
“Oh.” Her brows came down, and she glared at him for several minutes. “Why do you have me imprisoned here? What did you do to my friends?”
“I ate them,” he stated as straight-faced as possible. He couldn't help himself. He wanted to see her reaction.
She moved without speaking. Her eyes tightened right before her body thrust forward.
Without much exertion, he grabbed the knife from her hand and slid it into a pocket of his dressing jacket. She'd have to search for it in there, and he didn't think she'd do that. His suspicions were correct. Her body retreated three steps, her arms crossed in front of her, and her face set in a pout.
Second crisis averted.
“If you intend to kill your opponent, might I suggest you don't tell them?”
“I didn't say anything,” she spit out. Her glare was becoming monotonous.
“Yes, you did. Anyway, I didn't eat your friends. They're all safe and sound at home.”
“I don't believe you.”
“That's your prerogative, I suppose. I can show you later, but right now I wonder if you remember what happened.”
“Of course, I --,” she didn't finish that sentence.
Her eyebrows came further down once again, and she seemed to be thinking about his question. When she put a hand to her forehead, he knew she'd thought about it for too long.
“I will take that as a no. I gather it will come back to you soon. While you're waiting to remember, you can stay here. I think it would be safest for you.”
“Safest?” She sounded outraged now. “I will not be your prisoner! It isn't safe for me here. Aren't you the beast?”
Her eyes looked over him as if he were that evening's sacrifice, and he couldn't say that he liked the look very much. Furthermore, he was more disgruntled at her obvious lack of fear of him.
The Four Tales Page 33
