The Servants and the Beast

by R. A. Gates

  “But that’s not the point,” I said, annoyed that Victor had managed to get me to go off on a tangent again. “No Vivaldi!”

  “Now, Charles,” Theodore, the Beast’s favorite chair, called out from the entryway. “He was only trying to help brighten our spirits on this dark, gloomy day. I thought your playing was delightful, Victor, though I am partial to Bach.”

  “Yes, well, annoying the Beast won’t help anything,” I told the voiceless violin. “The rosebushes by the carriage house have finally started blooming again after his last outburst. So best keep silent when he’s in the castle.”

  It had been years since a chance to break the curse had presented itself and the Beast was losing hope. Most nights he wandered the woods surrounding the estate alone. Plus, the pink and gold sparkles were spreading. Bits and pieces showed up in the oddest places and stuck to the Beast’s fur. He often left glittering footprints all along the front hall.

  Victor responded with a high-pitched little melody.

  “Your sass is unappreciated.”

  A creak echoed through the main hall, causing Victor to stop playing. One of the front doors slowly opened, taxing the rarely used hinges. Victor and I peered around the doorway to see what was going on.

  A young woman stepped in sideways, the panniers of her dress too wide to enter straight on. Clearly a woman of high fashion. “Hello? Is anybody home?” She gently closed the door before turning to gaze around the large foyer. “I’m sorry for barging in but I’m afraid I’m lost. Is there anyone here who can assist me?”

  “It’s a girl!” I whispered. Victor’s bow ran across his strings excitedly before I could stop him. “Shhh! Do you want to scare her away?”

  “Is someone there?” the girl asked, stepping further into the hall towards the room where we hid. “I need help.” The bottom of her green dress was coated with mud and ripped in many places. Dirt smudged her face with tear trails running down her cheeks.

  “Now look what you did,” I told Victor as I pushed him back to the wall just as the girl entered our room. If we stayed perfectly still and silent, maybe she wouldn’t notice us.

  She gazed about, her brow wrinkled. “I could’ve sworn I heard something…” She strolled around the room dragging her hand behind her, fingers brushing over the wall and then across my fingerboard. I shuddered and barely stifled a moan. It had been too long since a woman had touched my strings.

  After finding the room apparently empty, she shrugged and went back into the main hall. We carefully resumed our place, peeking around the door to watch her.

  “She’s very beautiful,” I whispered to Victor. Her mahogany-colored hair was pulled up in a messy bun with random strands and leaves sticking out all over. Her skin glistened and her deep brown eyes shone bright with wonder; reminiscent of the state in which I left my lovers. The way she bit her bottom lip as she gazed around the great hall struck a chord deep within me. Please, let her be a cellist.

  The familiar vibration of the Beast descending the staircase shot straight to my heart. With his mood lately, how would he react to a stranger barging into his home, uninvited? Would he remember his manners?

  “Who are you? What are you doing here?” the Beast growled as he glared at the young woman from half-way down the stairs. His claws dug into the banister, a sign that he was annoyed. He must’ve heard Victor playing.

  The woman’s eyes widened as she backed away. “I-I…I’m sorry to bother you but I seemed to have gotten lost in the woods.” She bumped into the front door and stopped. “I c-came upon your castle and hoped to find a place to stay until the morning.” Her hand fumbled to find the doorknob behind her. “I’m sorry to bother you.” She found the knob and swung the door open to leave when a bolt of lightning cracked across the sky. Thunder shook the ground as rain plunged from the dark clouds hovering overhead. She stood in the open doorway, gawking at the rampaging storm as rain pelted her face.

  How I missed the sharp scent of a thunderstorm…and the delicate scent of a woman’s skin after an active night. Ah, I would never take my olfactory sense for granted again.

  “I thought you were leaving,” the Beast’s voice boomed in the vast entryway. A snarl curled his lips as he stared at her shivering form.

  She glanced back, her perfect pearly-white teeth already chattering. She nodded. My heart broke for the young woman as she squared her shoulders and pushed the door open wider to accommodate her wide dress.

  Just as she stepped over the threshold, the Beast blared, “On second thought,” stopping her in her tracks. He drew in a deep breath. “It is far too dangerous for anyone to travel in this weather. You may stay here until the storm passes.”

  The woman glanced back and forth between the Beast and the storm, hesitant to make a move in either direction. Her indecision made me so tense I thought I’d pop a string. Finally, after a moment, she closed the door against the thrashing winds. “Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality.”

  The Beast approached her, causing her to suck in a breath and tense up. Her gaze never left him as he stopped right in front of her. “You may help yourself to anything in the kitchen for supper and sleep in any available chamber. But the East Wing is forbidden,” the Beast said.

  “Why is it for—”

  “It just is!” he bellowed, swiping off a random pink sparkle from his shoulder and glaring east. For some unknown reason, the pesky sparkles were accumulating so rapidly in that part of the castle that the Beast had ordered the wing closed to keep them contained. It wasn’t working.

  She gasped at the outburst, but then slowly let out her breath as the Beast stepped back, giving her some space. “All right,” she said. “No going into the East Wing.”

  The Beast suddenly seemed unsure of himself as he glanced at the floor. Was he losing his confidence?

  Victor gently ran his bow across his strings in an encouraging little tune. The Beast inclined his head toward the room we were hiding in, a frown on his face, before straightening his shoulders and holding out a paw to the woman. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”

  The woman also glanced toward where Victor quietly played, but then snapped her attention back to the Beast and his proffered paw. She stared at what used to be human hands, her gaze traveling up his thick arms until she reached his face. “Oh, uh, yes,” she said, slowly placing her hand in his. “I would be honored.”

  As they walked to the dining hall, the girl kept glancing about. “Do you hear music?”

  “No,” the Beast said, glaring into the room as they passed, silencing the little violin. But as soon as they were out of earshot, we struck up a happy jig. Excited whispers swept through the castle. “She stayed. She must be the one!”

  While the Beast allowed the girl to freshen up before dinner, Victor and I made our way to the dining hall and hid in the darkest corner to watch. Two plates were already set at the long dining table when the Beast and his enchanting guest entered. Piles of fresh, hot food sat in the middle, ready to be served. With such short notice of company, the kitchen had probably cooked up everything they had to impress the girl. The serving dishes had also sneaked into the room and hid in the shadows to watch. Everybody’s future depended on this woman.

  The Beast’s gaze wandered over the table as he tugged at the collar of his shirt. He hadn’t used utensils to eat in years, preferring to use his paws because it was easier. He’d had no one to impress for a long time. Again, Victor played a little melody of encouragement as the Beast reached out to take the soup ladle. He couldn’t wrap his rather large fingers around the slender handle, nearly spilling the tomato bisque all over the white linen tablecloth.

  The girl smiled and rescued him before he could spill and served the soup up in both of their bowls. They slurped their soup in silence for many uncomfortable minutes. Victor played again, a happy tune to set the mood.

  “So, uh…” the Beast started.

  “Angeline,” the girl said with a crooked smile while she sco
oped up the roasted vegetables onto their plates.

  “Angeline,” the Beast said as if trying out the taste her name. “Why were you in the forest alone? Do you live in the village across the river?”

  She frowned as she set the serving spoon back into the bowl. “Not yet. I was supposed to marry the man I thought loved me and move to the town but apparently, I was mistaken.” She took a bite of a carrot and chomped hard on the poor root.

  “Oh,” the Beast said, his timbre deflating. “You are engaged.” He grabbed the goblet of red wine at his side and downed it in one gulp. “I’m so happy for you,” he said dryly as he set the glass down a little too hard.

  The servants all slumped in our hiding spots. Her heart already belonged to another. Victor’s bow slid off his strings in a disappointed slur.

  “Not anymore,” she said, biting hard on a brussels sprout. She waved her fork in the air as she said around her food, “He isn’t the man I thought he was. The wedding is off.”

  We all perked back up, leaning in a little closer to hear better. “Oh? What happened?” the Beast asked, absently chewing his food while she had his full attention. His tail wagged excitedly from side to side as he listened.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Angeline said as she speared another sprout. After a few minutes she had cleaned her plate and gazed over at his. “Are you going to eat that?” she asked, pointing her fork at his roasted potato. He slid his plate closer to her, so she could help herself.

  “Why are men never satisfied with one woman?” she asked before taking a bite. “Why do they feel the need to stray? Especially right before they are to be married?” She swallowed hard and then looked at the Beast. “Am I not pretty enough?”

  “Yes! I mean no,” the Beast said quickly. “I mean…” He leaned back into his chair. “You are lovely and any man who doesn’t see that is a fool.”

  The girl smiled at the Beast. “Thank you. You’re so kind. Inviting a perfect stranger into your lovely home and listening while she rants about her no-good fiancé.” She shook her head. “Former fiancé,” she corrected.

  The candelabra next to me nearly burned my scroll as his flames flared in excitement while the young woman fumed over her misfortune. I could practically feel the curse lifting already. Victor couldn’t help himself as he played a few lively notes.

  “Do you hear that?” the girl asked, setting her fork down as she squinted into the darkness.

  I bumped Victor with my bow. “Silence,” I whispered. He was going to ruin everything. If she knew the castle was cursed, she might flee before she could fall in love.

  “No, uh…” the Beast scrambled to distract her. He grabbed a platter and held it out to her. “Would you like some roast duck?”

  She stared at it in silence. After a moment, the Beast set the food down, uncertainty clouding his face as he watched her eyes water. “Philippe is the best duck hunter in the village,” she choked out as tears streamed down her face. She grabbed her napkin and held it to her eyes while sobs wracked her body.

  The Beast watched, wide-eyed as she cried. He glanced over to the shadows to where we sat, silently pleading for help. None of us knew what to do with a weeping girl.

  “I thought…he l-loved me,” she sobbed into the cloth.

  Victor sniffed and played a melancholy tune while she wept, tears rolling down his fingerboard.

  “Don’t encourage her,” I admonished, wiping away a tear of my own. Who knew being a cello for so long would make me so soft?

  After minutes of weeping, Angeline straightened up and blew her nose. “I’m so sorry,” she said, dabbing the moisture from her eyes. “I’m not usually one for such outbursts. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and I ruined such a lovely meal with my despondency.”

  “That’s perfectly fine,” the Beast said, flinching as she blew her nose into her napkin again. Lightning flashed just outside the castle and lit up the dining room. Rain had continued to pour.

  In the corner, Victor played a soft lullaby. The Beast said nothing as he stared at the sniffling girl. Why wasn’t he saying anything? This curse wasn’t going to break itself. I reached out tentatively and tapped the Beast with my bow. Praying that he wouldn’t bite my scroll off for my forwardness, I whispered, “Invite her to stay the night.”

  He turned his head slightly, tossing me a glare but then said, “The storm doesn’t appear to be letting up. It’s too dangerous to be out in such a torrential downpour. I can show you to a bedchamber you may use for the night.”

  “Oh?” she asked between sniffs. She glanced behind her, out the giant window to see the wind thrashing trees in the surrounding forest and the rain rolling down the glass panes. She shivered. “I suppose you’re right.” She looked at the Beast and gave him a watery smile. “Thank you.”

  He stood and offered his arm, which she took without hesitation. Victor could barely keep still as we all watched the Beast lead the young woman up the main staircase to one of the empty chambers.

  “Did you see that?” the dishes clinked excitedly. “She likes him. She’s the one!”

  “Don’t count your notes before they’ve been played,” I said. “It takes more than one kind gesture to fall in love.” Once the dishes had gathered up the food and clamored back into the kitchen, I leaned in closer to Victor and whispered, “I think she’s the one!”

  The next morning, Victor and I played a lively little tune while the other servants danced in joy in the great room. Excitement filled the air. We were so close to breaking the curse and returning to our true forms. I couldn’t wait to waltz on two legs again, with that lovely buxom dairy maid, Frostine, in my arms. Even the Beast almost smiled at the scene as he ordered everyone to get back to work before the girl heard us celebrating.

  When Angeline did finally emerge from her chamber in the late morning, her eyes were red and puffy. She stepped lightly down the stairs, hand gliding down the freshly polished banister. Everyone had worked all night to make the castle gleam in hopes of impressing her. The gardening shears had even gone out of his way to find the prettiest flowers in the garden to brighten the hallway.

  The girl stopped at the table with the large vase full of the brightest purple irises in the countryside. She reached out and gently rubbed one of the petals with her delicate fingers. The corner of her mouth pulled up into a smile. “These are lovely,” she whispered. “Almost as beautiful as the flowers Philippe offered when he first started courting.” She bit her bottom lip as it trembled, and water filled her eyes.

  “She’s not going to cry again, is she?” Robert, the shaggy mop, asked as he peered around the corner to the hall. “She was sniffling all night. At this rate, I’ll have to follow her around just to clean up her tears.”

  “She’s been through a lot,” I said. “Give her some time to get over that fool. Then she’ll see what a catch the Beast is.” Hopefully he wouldn’t lose his temper and scare her away.

  Before the tears could fall, the girl wiped her eyes and straightened her shoulders. She strode to the dining hall, fresh determination lighting her face. Victor played a couple sassy notes as she walked away.

  The Beast joined her for breakfast. A few of us peeked through the opening of the French doors leading to the dining room to watch. They chatted in lively fashion with each other about the various tapestries hanging on the walls while they ate. She seemed to be enjoying his company if her smiles were any indication. At least until she chomped down on her toast and mulberry jam. She paused, slowly chewing as she set the rest down on her plate. A moment later she burst into tears. “Philippe is allergic to mulberries,” she said around the lump in her throat. “One bite could kill him.”

  “She’s crying again,” Archambault, the coat rack, said, his arms drooping. “You’d think she’d be dehydrated by now.”

  “We need to cheer her up,” I said, hopping back and forth on my endpin in front of the dining room doors. “Get her mind off that fiancé of hers.” But what could
we do without revealing ourselves? She was already in such a delicate state, we might push her over the edge.

  Victor stroked his strings.

  I glared at the little violin. “We are not going to send the man mulberries.”

  Footsteps approached the door, sending the other servants scrambling to avoid being seen. I flattened myself against the wall as best I could, nearly getting hit with the door as the Beast escorted the sniffling girl into the hall.

  “Would you like a tour of the castle?” the Beast asked gruffly. I was impressed he hadn’t thrown her out already with her near constant crying.

  She sniffed and wiped at her nose with a lacy handkerchief. “That would be lovely.”

  He led her to the library.

  “Let’s hope Philippe isn’t a big reader,” Robert said, sliding over to the bookcase to rest.

  “The poor girl is surely doing her best,” I told everyone, waving my bow around. “I’m sure the Beast will chase away any lingering feelings she may still harbor for that no-good scoundrel in no time.” At least I hoped so. I would love to see her smile again.

  The Beast emerged from the library, alone. A frown pulled at the corners of his mouth as he stomped down the stairs. “Did you know that Philippe’s brother’s wife’s sister knows this man who married the fourth cousin thrice removed of Shakespeare’s tailor?” He fell back into Theodore, trusting his favorite chair would be there to catch him. The Beast clenched his fists as he glared into the roaring flames in the hearth. “We must burn all his sonnets.”

  I snickered. Hugo the librarian would never stand for it.

  The Beast stood and approached the fireplace, gripping the mantel while hunched over in thought. Those of us in the room remained still and quiet, not daring to disturb him. He tensed up right before roaring so loudly the chandeliers rattled. He cleared everything off the mantel in one swipe of his paw, glass and metal crashing to the floor. He stomped out of the castle, retreating to the woods as we all quickly cleaned up the mess before the girl could find it. I hoped she would get over this Philippe fellow soon, before the Beast’s tantrums broke everything.