Throughout my life, one of the many things people would underestimate about me was my temper. My petite frame, my light blue eyes that once held a slight innocence to them, and my face that always held a sliver of youth in it that made me seem younger than I am, all of these attributes conveyed the sense that I was someone who wouldn't even hurt a fly. It made people believe that I was someone who they could mess with because I wouldn't be able to fight back. They were all sorely mistaken.
When that woman, that little thief dared to speak to me like that my rage began to burn like a hot fire. Its flames wrapped around every surface of my body, I wanted to make her regret every word she dared to say to me. I wanted... no... I needed to make her suffer and pay, preferably with her pathetic little life.
Despite my burning rage, I've always been collected with my thoughts. Even though at times all I want to do is scream and release my burning anger onto the person I have never done it without considering the implications and the consequences of that action first.
If I had killed that little thief then it would have made it look like I was trying to stop Maurie from finding a cure to the curse which only would have opened up more questions and raised suspicion. I can't risk that.
Ever since I left that room I've been pondering other ways to get rid of her, and I think I've found the perfect way.
I couldn't find him in our bedroom so I quickly walked to the only other place he would be at this hour- the library.
My assumption was right and as soon as I walked in through the double doors I saw his looming figure standing by one of the multitudes of shelves. He's so focused on the books lined up in front of him that he doesn't notice my entrance.
I silently watch as he reaches out to grab one of the books but stops and pulls back just as he is about to take it.
"Let me guess you're trying to debate which of Shakespeare's plays you should read next."
He jumps up slightly at the sound of my voice and turns to face me, a small smile twisting on his thin lips.
"I am finding it difficult to choose between Macbeth or Hamlet."
Laughing, I walk over to the table that is close to him and take a seat.
"I'm guessing Romeo and Juliet wasn't much to your liking if you're choosing between a boy who has to take revenge for the murder of his father or a man who basically becomes the villain in his own story because he chose to listen to some witches and his manipulative wife."
"No, it was good it's just... well... I'm not too sure I fully believe that kind of love story."
My face contorts into a look of confusion. "What do you mean? A man meets a young woman they fall madly in love with each other. What's so hard to believe about that?"
He comes over to me and sits down in the chair across from me, he leans slightly forward and his dark eyes that to most seem menacing but to me only seem filled with pain stare deeply into mine.
"It's just that I don't believe that two people can fall in love the second they meet each other. If reading has taught me anything over these last few decades it's that love doesn't just happen, it doesn't suddenly appear it has to grow naturally. If Shakespeare wanted to make it realistic he should have made Romeo and Juliet get to know each other better before rushing into marriage."
I grit my teeth to hold back my disagreement. I knew I loved him when we met all those years ago when we were mere children. I knew the second I saw him that he and I were meant to be together, I also knew that I was willing to do whatever it took to make him mine.
His eyebrows raise in concerned notion. "You don't agree with me?" he says it like a question but I know he already knows my answer.
I make sure to take a deep breath before I dare to answer him, if I want him to agree to the request I am about to make I must keep a cool head and not make him angry.
"We simply have different views on love that is all. Now as much as I would love to discuss Romeo and Juliet with you I have a question I must ask you," I say in the nicest tone I can muster.
He stays silent for about a second before he motions with his hand for me to continue.
"The girl-"
"Please don't I don't want to talk about this," he groans and covers his face with one of his massive paws.
"We need to talk about this. I don't like that girl hanging around and I know you don't either. I mean for God's sake she tried to kill why the hell would you even want her around?"
"First of all, it's Maurie who is bringing her around because apparently, she is important for something and secondly how can you not like her you haven't even met her?"
"I have actually, earlier tonight in Maurie's study and she was extremely rude."
"Well, there isn't anything I can do about that," he sighs.
"Yes, there is, you could tell Maurie to get what he needs from her and then send her on her way. I'm sure he doesn't need her, she didn't seem to be doing anything other than chatting with all the others when I went up there. She has no purpose in his mission so why on Earth should she be coming over here? Speak to Maurie and tell him she isn't allowed in the castle anymore?"
With a low and deep growl, he shoves himself away from the table and starts frantically pacing back and forth alongside the table.
"I can't do that."
I scoff. "Yes, you can."
"No. I. Cant."
"Yes you can! You are the owner of this house. You are their prince and they are your servants. They should follow your every command so if you tell Maurie to never allow that little thief into this castle ever again then he must listen to you."
He furiously turns around to face me, his face twisted by anger so much that he looks like a monster.
"I am not the price of this castle not anymore! I'm not even a man anymore!" he bellows and the sheer amount of pain and rage within his voice threatened to shake the room.
If my father were still alive today he would tell me that I had to fit in and in a moment like this, the way to do that would be to provide comfort to the person who was in pain. Only my father isn't alive, and I'm not someone who provides comfort.
"I don't have time for your whining, you either tell Maurie to get rid of her, or I will do it myself," I hiss at him through clenched teeth.
With my teeth still clenched in anger and my eyes now glaring daggers at him I get out of the chair and storm out of the library.
I haven't been up in this room for decades.
Staring at this wooden door reminds me of all the hatred I felt... that I feel for this room. Every time my father sent me up here with a tutor because he couldn't stand to look at me. Looking at this door I can see that old and wicked man who would look after me and the hard wooden cane he would strike me with any time I did something he wouldn't approve of. The worst of it was how my father didn't care when I went up to him, my face and body decorated with bruises and tears dripping down my cheeks, and begged him to save me. To take me away from that horrid caretaker and send him far far away. I begged him to be my father, to help me but he refused.
I hate this room with every fiber in my body, but I hate disappointing Belle even more. The second she left the library I forced myself to move towards the tower, up that dreadful spiral staircase and now here I am.
Taking a deep breath I slowly reach out for the doorknob only to be interrupted by a male voice from within the room.
"How much longer are you going to stand out there?"
Even though I knew at this moment I have to be serious I couldn't stop a small smile from capturing my lips. I slowly turned the doorknob, pushed the door open, and with short and slightly shaky steps and ragged breaths, I stepped inside.
Maurie is positioned behind the desk and all around him lie scattered pieces of paper. I always knew that he was loyal to me but all of this proves that his loyalty is stronger than I thought it was, so maybe he will still listen to me.
"How did you know I was there?" I ask him.
He looks up at me and flashes a small smile that seems to hold a touch of sadness within it.
"The same way you used to know that I was coming to save you, I could see your shadow under the door."
A small lump begins to form in my throat and I quickly push it down before he can notice that it is there. I don't want anyone to know that I still think about these days.
"Do you know why I'm here?" I ask, desperate to move the conversation onto a different topic.
He sighs and leans back into the chair. "No, but if I had to guess I would say that it has to do with Valerie."
"Belle and I don't want her to come into the castle anymore."
He doesn't move from his position, he just continues to look up at me his eyes once held a tinge of sadness are now filled with disbelief.
"I believe that she doesn't want Valerie here but you... why wouldn't you want the woman who is going to help me save you to come here?"
"Is she helping you or is she simply coming here to chat?" I snap.
"For now she is my delivery girl but there will be a day when I will give her more responsibility. If you ban her from the castle you will only be harming yourself and you will probably end my chances of curing you."
"I don't care, I never want to see her in this castle again. She can give you whatever it is you need and then she must leave."
Turning on my heels I start walking back toward the door.
"When are you going to stop listening to her? Don't you think it's odd that she doesn't want the one person who can help me cure you to come here anymore?"
I stop dead in my tracks and silently stare at the stone wall in front of me. I know he has a point but I also know that what Belle said about me not wanting Valerie around is also true. Both of them have valid points the only question is who do I listen to? My lover or my mentor?
Ninety years trapped in this castle and I've never found the answer to that question. Ninety years of playing the pawn in a game of chess, a piece moved back and forth between two warring sides. I know that one day I will have to listen to one of them but until then I think it's about time I start listening to myself and putting my wishes first.
"Is she truly your only hope of finding a cure?" I don't turn back around to look at him.
"I believe so."
Now I turn back to face him.
"That's not a direct answer, is she your only hope yes or no?"
He ponders his answer for a minute and then nods. "Yes, she is."
"Then she can keep coming here but she must stay away from Belle and mustn't upset her again or else I will throw her out myself. Do you understand?"
"Yes," he replies as he bows his head slightly.
Satisfied by his answer I turn back around and head down the stairs.
I know that Belle will not be pleased with my choice and that she will see it as a selfish desire but she is not the one who has to wake up every morning as a beast. If she complains about my decision then I will deal with her. But for now, I focus on my journey down the stairs and away from the room of pain.