Cursed

9. Daurien's Houseguest

9. Daurien's Houseguest

Belle. That was her name. It was perfect, she was born for the name Belle. Why I hadn't been able to guess it I didn't know, it seemed so obvious now.

There she was inspecting her palm, sitting on the dank floor of my dungeon. I could smell blood. I took a step closer to her, only out of concern for the injury I had caused her in my rage and reached for her before I could realize what a terrible idea it was. She flinched away from me sharply.

“Don't touch me!” She screamed and I knew all she saw in me was a monster,

“You didn't let me say goodbye.” Her voice was soft and unsteady. She hugged her knees and shook with silent sobs.

What had I done? What was I thinking? That I could take a girl away from her father and expect her to just fall in love with me? That this girl could ever love the beast that I am, the monster who separated her from the life she knows, her family and everything she loves?

I had gone down to the dungeon with the intention of letting her father go. Her appearance had caught me off guard however and I found myself getting angry. Angry that no one would ever love me, angry that I had no human companions, angry that she had come to rescue her father and not me. So I told her he was my prisoner because that is the cruel beast I am. And then a miracle happened. She asked to take his place. As my prisoner. How could I have refused? And then I did the unthinkable, I ordered him to leave and made a chair carry him out. I didn't mean to be so cruel, I was just eager to have her for myself and I didn't want to give her a chance to change her mind. And now she hated me.

“Follow me to your room,” I commanded as delicately as I could. Her sobs stopped for a moment and she looked up at me quizzically.

“What?” she whimpered in surprise. My temper rose again as I realized she thought I was going to leave her alone in the dungeon. How could she? I was not that much of a monster! Then again, she hadn't seen anything to suggest otherwise.

“Would you rather sleep in the dungeon?” I bellowed.

“N-no,” she pushed herself off the ground using her uninjured hand and stood shakily on her feet. I walked out of the door of the dungeon and climbed up the stairs then waited for her to join me.

The rain had stopped and the moon showed itself through a gap in the clouds. Its soft light played shadows across her face as she climbed out from the entrance to the dungeon. She took my breath away.

I led her to the entrance doors which I held open as a gentleman would and let her pass through before me. She kept her eyes firmly on the ground as she stepped in front of me and then waited for me to pass her so that I could lead again.

I led her past the kitchen, the dining room, several guest rooms and stopped before the hallway to the west wing. I spun to face her.

“This is your home now,” I told her. She seemed startled that I had stopped but quickly lowered her eyes to the intricate carpet we were standing on once the shock faded, “you may go anywhere you like as long as you remain on the grounds of the mansion, except the west wing.” I gestured to the corridor with the portraits of my family.

“What's in the west wing?” She looked up from the ground and in the direction of the corridor with interest.

“It is forbidden!” I growled. She jumped and continued to stare at the ground. I scratched through the fur on my left arm in frustration and grunted for her to follow. I walked her to the largest room apart from mine and did my best to ignore all the memories that came to mind as opened the door for her.

“Wait,” I said and she stopped and finally looked at me before stepping through the threshold, “sweet dreams.” Her eyes widened and I closed the door before she could reply, for fear of what was to come.

I stepped back from her door and paced back and forth. So many women had spent the night in this very room and I couldn't remember the half of them. Just that they were pretty, most of them were blonde and that they would do anything for a good meal. I didn't want to remember. It was hundreds of years ago but the touch of a woman is something you can never truly forget and it was something I longed for dearly. I wanted Belle to have the grandest room I could provide her with but I was already regretting my decision to give her this specific room. Well, it was too late now.

Suddenly, heart wrenching tears broke through the door causing me to stop pacing abruptly. All I wanted was to go in there and take her into my arms, to tell her everything will be okay and soothe her to sleep but I knew of course that any such action would not be welcome.

“What should I do?” I asked no one in particular. The candleholder came forward and spoke to me solemnly.

“Leave her be, my lord,” he said simply.

“But she is miserable,” I argued. Hundreds of years ago I would have never shied away from entering the chamber of a woman I had invited into my home but things were different this time, I was different and the stakes were higher.

“With all due respect my lord, you have taken her life away from her, she has every right to be miserable,” he said and I felt more ashamed than ever, “Leave her be, sire, let her accommodate herself to her new home, she will come around.” He looked at me hopefully and I gave him a thankful nod.