Beauty's Beast

Now.

One year later

Snow was going to be the death of him.

He was well aware death came knocking at some point but he'd hoped that this would have been the peaceful kind of death. Perhaps a brain aneurysm in his sleep sort of peaceful. But not for a while yet he'd hoped. Only after he'd watched his daughters get married, have children, and live happy and fulfilled lives. Only after he'd settled all his debts and lived a life that hadn't included daily worries about financial struggles.

But as the car careened off the unfamiliar road and slammed into a tree, he cursed in anger. He'd hoped for a peaceful sort of life that went along with a peaceful sort of death, but he couldn't achieve even the latter.

Before unconsciousness overtook him, his last thoughts were of his daughters, especially his youngest, his little early bird.

He felt something warm trickle down his face. It had to be blood.

He watched as flurries of snow fell from the ever darkening skies. Winter came early this year, unfortunately for him. So he was either going to die from internal injuries or hypothermia. Rather undignified deaths if anyone bothered to ask him were his last thoughts before darkness claimed him.

***

For Nihat Aydin, death felt like a warm, cozy blanket, soft bed, and fluffy pillows with the aroma of wood burning fire wafting in the air. Nihat cracked one eye open, fully expecting to be surrounded by demons or angels but all he saw through the fog of pain and slight dizziness was a rather large room bathed in warm lighting.

Instinctively, he pushed his glasses up to help his blurry vision but found them missing. Of course, he was in an accident, he remembered the car sliding on a patch of ice and hitting a tree.

His hand went up to his head and sure enough, he had a bandage on his forehead. But he was alive! He let his hands roam around his body to ensure he was still corporeal and not a warm and comfortable ghost.

Yes, still solid!

Now, where the hell was he? Surely not in a hospital or did all hospitals in Istanbul have fireplaces in private rooms? Allah Allah! How was he supposed to pay for his stay? And the car!

Panic began to set in. He needed to get home! How, he had no clue but he needed to leave!

"You're awake!"

Nihat slid under the covers in absolute fright. Slowly, he crept out of his hiding place when he heard footsteps coming closer to the bed.

"We were ever so worried when you kept sleeping, Nihat bey." A mustachioed man approached the bed allowing him to make him out a bit more clearly.

Dressed in dark pants, a polo shirt with a bolo tie, the mustachioed man kept wringing his hands, a look of concern etched on his face.

"We've laundered your clothes and managed to get the blood off your coat." He spoke rapidly, nervously, even.

"We've managed to find suitable clothing for you as well, Nihat bey." Sure enough, Nihat realized he was wearing someone else's shirt and pants. They were a little snug but he supposed it was better than being in bed naked or with dirty, bloody clothes.

Mustachioed man also indicated to the foot of the bed where, Nihat presumed, were his clothing. Of course they were blurry since he didn't have his glasses on, thankfully his eyesight wasn't so awful that he was blind. Things were just a tad bit out of focus when not right in his face.

"Where am I?" Nihat asked, his throat dry, his voice raspy.

"Istabul," Mustachioed man poured water from a carafe and handed it to him, "in my master's home."