Beast (17 page)

“Wow, that was really nice of you. How many siblings do you have?” I asked her, even though I kind of already knew.

“Well, I have one brother, Lanelin, and one sister, Evaline.”

“Was it nice growing up with siblings?”

“At times. Many times I wished that I was an only child, but I love them.”

After she said this, she looked down at her food and began to cry.

“Mirabelle, what is wrong?”

I moved my chair closer to her and placed my arm around her shoulders, trying not to make her feel uncomfortable again.

“Well, my brother worked for Papa in his shipping company. He was a captain of one of the ships. One day his ship never came back.” She tried her hardest to say more, but I could tell that she just could not.

“I am so sorry! I know what it is like for someone you love to leave and never come back.”

When she was able to control the tears, Mirabelle sniffled and said, “Thank you, Beast. I needed that.”

“For you, anything. I forgot to tell you something. You look very beautiful today, Mirabelle.”

“Thank you, Beast.” She blushed.

As she continued to eat, I just watched her. She was so polite with her manners and delicate with every move.

Usually, she left after she was done eating, but not that day. I could tell that she had something on her mind, but I was hesitant to ask. I did not want to force it out, so I did not ask.

“Thank you for this lovely meal. Would you walk me to my room?” she asked.

“I would love to.”

Again I offered my arm to lead her to her room. She took it, and we began to walk.

We walked slowly but did not converse. It was nice, though, to have human contact.

Once at her bedroom door, we stopped and faced one another.

“I hope you have a wonderful night’s sleep. I look forward to seeing you in the morning. Good night, beautiful,” I told Mirabelle.

“Thank you again,
Beast, for today. Showing me the library was what I needed. And thank you for catching me. Good night, Beast.”

Mirabelle took a step toward me. She wrapped her arms around me to hug me. I was in shock.

The second her arms touched me, my heart began to pound; I almost did not know what to do in response. Though she could not see it, I felt as if my eyes were going to pop out of my head.

Once she let go, a strong urge to hold her close came over me, but I could not allow it to happen. All I wanted was to have her near me, in my arms, hugging me. This was a sensation that I had never experienced before in my life.

She opened her door and turned to me with a smile before she closed it.

Chapter 10

T
he next morning, as usual, I made my way to Mirabelle’s bedroom. As I walked closer to her room, my palms began to sweat, I struggled to catch my breath, and my heart pounded rapidly.

“Mirabelle, it is time for breakfast. I would love it if you joined me,” I said as I knocked on her door.

Once I stepped into the dining room, there was Mirabelle, looking out the window at the dead roses. She was wearing a purple dress, which made her eyes have a tint of green.

“Good morning, Mirabelle. I went to your room, but you were not there. I was wondering where you might be.”

“Morning, Beast. I woke up with the sun this morning, thinking nonstop about those roses you told me about the other day. They seem worse. Do not you think?”

I walked to the window by Mirabelle.

“Yes, I think you are right. They indeed seem as if they are becoming worse.”

Mirabelle put her right hand on the closed window, seemingly lost in her stare.

“At home, we have these beautiful roses which surround the house. They even climb up the walls of the house,” she began.

“I know,” I said under my breath.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing. You were saying?”

“Oh, okay. Well, these roses are so beautiful! There is also a rose bed in the garden, filled with roses just as beautiful as the ones surrounding the house.”

Her hand slowly moved down the window as she spoke. Her eyes were still fixed on something in the distance.

“They are not like anything I have ever seen before in my life,” she explained to me.

She turned toward me, leaning against the window.

“At our house in the city, we had so many different flowers, including roses. My mother had planted a little rose bed out in the yard for me to till. I would cut the roses that I thought were the most beautiful and place them in a vase for my room, the dining room, or my parents’ room. But they would only last a few days before I had to throw them away and cut new roses.

“But the roses at the house where we live now are just so unique. I am not sure what it is. They are so much redder than any I have ever seen.

“The strangest thing about them is that, no matter the season, they stay in full bloom! And when I would cut them and put them inside on our table or the mantel over the fireplace, they would stay perfectly opened for almost a month. Their scent would fill up the house. It just does not make any sense to me.”

“Why do you think that they do this?” I asked Mirabelle.

“I am not sure. Whatever it is, I am glad for it. I would till the roses, doing my best to make sure that they received all that they needed. I loved looking at them, along with spending as much time with them as I possibly could. It was wonderful to have them year-round.”

She turned back to the window to gaze down at the horrid-looking roses. I could tell that she was contemplating something. I could see her look at me out of the corner of her eye from time to time. I wrinkled my brow in an attempt to guess what she was thinking.

Finally she turned, facing me again.

“Beast?” she said softly, almost in a mumble.

“Yes, Mirabelle?” I answered.

“You said that these roses have been dead for a long time, correct?”

“Yes, it is true.”

“When my father came here, he took a rose from you that was the most vibrant and wonderfully smelling rose that I have ever seen, even more than the ones that surround our house. He said that he took the rose from a vase. If these roses were dead when he came, where did the rose he took come from?”

When she had begun talking about her father, I’d had a feeling that she was going to ask me about the rose. I was not sure what I wanted to tell her at that moment in time. I took rapid, shallow breaths while thinking about what I should explain.

There was so much more that I needed to tell her before she would understand about the roses in my bedroom. I was not sure if she would fully comprehend what exactly had happened without hearing the whole story.

“It is a long story. One that I do not feel comfortable explaining at this moment in time. I do want to tell you, but it requires more than just those roses,” I finally answered.

“That is all right, Beast. If you do not want to talk about it now, you do not have to,” she said, nodding. “Come, it looks as if breakfast is ready.”

Again I gave her my arm to hold on to as I walked her to her seat.

Once at the table, Mirabelle began to eat. From time to time, I just watched her and her delicateness. However, when she looked up at me, I quickly directed my eyes to a different part of the room. I was not sure why I did this—maybe because I did not want to frighten her by staring at her beauty. At one point, I thought she caught me, because she began to giggle.

“Mirabelle, would you like to accompany me to the library after breakfast?”

“I would love to, Beast!” She lifted her head and smiled.

Once she finished her meal, we walked together into the library.

“Please be careful when looking for a book, Mirabelle!” I said, half joking and half serious.

“I will do my best!” She giggled.

I grabbed a book and then sat in the big brown chair.

Mirabelle walked around the room for a while. She seemed to be eyeing all the different books on the shelves. At first she was just looking at the books on the first floor. Not long after, she walked up the steps to the second floor of the library. Because I was curious to know what she was doing, I peered up from my book to watch her every once in a while.

After walking around the library several times, she finally picked out a book and sat down in the chair next to me.

Coming to the library after breakfast became a daily habit; we usually stayed until lunchtime.

At lunchtime, we parted ways.

Suddenly I realized that I had not seen Buttons in a few days, or at least from what I could remember. I was not too worried. There was someone new in the castle, and he probably needed to warm up to her.

After leaving Mirabelle, I decided to go to the music room to play the piano again. There I found Buttons, sleeping on the wood floor. It was almost as if he knew that I was missing him and where I was going to be.

As I sat down on the piano bench, Buttons stood up, walked over, and sat on it with me. He watched me for a while before crawling into my lap to fall asleep. I guessed that the music was soothing to him. I shut my eyes while playing, as usual.

Sometimes those moments were the best. Then I heard the floor creak. I turned my head toward the door, but I did not see anything. Even Buttons raised his head to look. After not seeing anything, I shut my eyes again, continuing to play.

Like so many times before, I became lost in the music. Once I opened my eyes, I realized that I had been there for a long time; it was already time for dinner. So I picked up Buttons.

With him asleep in my arms, I walked to the dining room, hoping that Mirabelle had not eaten without me there to keep her company.

Once I walked in, I saw Mirabelle sitting on the couch, reading a book by the fireplace. I did not want to frighten her. Since my footsteps did not make noise, I called out to her.

“Good evening, Mirabelle,” I said, making my way over to her.

“Evening, Beast,” she replied, not looking up from her book.

I walked toward her and set Buttons on the chair near the fire. As I set him down, I could feel Mirabelle watching me.

“Who is that?” she exclaimed.

“This is my cat, Buttons,” I told her.

“He is so cute! How old is he?”

“Honestly, I am not sure anymore. I have had him since I was very young. He has been really the only living thing I have been able to have contact with, besides you, of course.”

“So he has been here for over two hundred years too?”

“Yes, he has. I cannot tell you how thankful I am for him.”

“May I pet him?”

“Absolutely!”

She moved to the edge of the couch and leaned over the armrest to pet him. Her hand started at his face, moving down his spine. Once her hand came in contact with his fur, he glanced up at her, meowing as if he were saying hello. Then he began to purr.

“Sorry that I am late for dinner tonight. I lost track of time.”

“That is all right. I understand how that is. That happened a lot to me while I was working in the garden or when reading a good book.”

“Well, it seems that Buttons likes you, Mirabelle.”

Buttons was moving his face so that Mirabelle would rub him on a certain spot, and his eyes were shut. He was purring, as usual.

After I said this, Buttons stood up, stretched his back, and jumped over to the couch, where Mirabelle was sitting. He proceeded to curl up on the couch next to her.

“I am glad! I love cats!” She paused and then looked up at me. “Are you ready for dinner?”

“Yes, let us go to the table.”

We walked over arm in arm, and I helped her with her chair. From what I could see, she seemed to be smiling a little. Then I sat down in my normal spot next to her.

“You look quiet lovely, Mirabelle.”

She was wearing a pink dress with purple accents, along with a pink ribbon in her hair.

“Thank you, Beast.” She looked down at her plate, trying to hide her red, blushing cheeks.

“Mirabelle, please tell me about your family,” I suggested.

“Well, you have met my father, Reynard. He is one of the most wonderful men I have met in my life. His heart is so pure, and he cares so much about others. Papa used to own a shipping company. There were very few wealthy people in the city we lived in; he was one of them.

“My brother, Lanelin, is, or was”—she looked down—“seven years older than me. He had a laugh that was so contagious. Lanelin worked in Papa’s shipping company, which I have told you, wanting to follow in Papa’s footsteps to own the company one day. I told you that he married a woman named Nadine and that I was the one who helped them admit that they liked one another. But he disappeared, along with all the ships from Papa’s company. I miss him so much.

“Then there is Evaline; she is only three and a half years older than I am. When we were little, our mother taught her how to bake, and she grew to love it. She told me years ago that she wanted to start her own baking business.