Lyza
"Miss, you need to stop messing with that!"
Lia's smooth hand reached out and grabbed my wrist, forcing my arm to the side--away from the dress she forced me into.
I fought back the urge to slap her away and let her take my hand. I grimaced. The dress she shoved me in was less-than-comfortable. The neck came about a half-inch below my collar bone, then fell another half-inch to form a "V." Gold trim followed the outline of the neck, tracing around the forest green material. My toes poked from underneath the floor-length skirt, blissfully bare.
"Here." Lia tossed an unknown item over to me.
I jumped, fumbling around with the object.
Wha--
Shoes. Of course. Why not?
I tried my best not to sigh and roll my eyes, then slipped the flats onto my feet. Without thinking, I grabbed the shoulders of the dress and yanked it back, trying to pull it up. It wasn't low for normal standards, but that was the problem.
I'm not normal. Sue me.
Lia raised her hand again, staring at me. "Miss, I will slap your hand again. Leave the dress alone, you're not showing anything!"
But it feels like it!
There was a sharp yank at the back of my head, pulling me backward.
"What on earth, Lia!"
She made a face at me and went back to pulling every single strand of hair from my head. "I'm trying to untangle this mess!" she cried.
I laughed. "Lia, my hair doesn't know the meaning of 'untangle.' It's not happening."
She ignored me and kept yanking. After what felt like forever, she stopped.
"There, Miss. That's all I can do." Liia waved her hands, becoming for me to stand. "Let's see how you look, Miss."
Slowly, I stood up. There was a sharp intake of air from behind me.
"What, that bad?" I asked as I turned around.
Emilia's eyes sparkled in awe. Her cold hand grabbed my wrist and she dragged me over to a tall, covered-by-cloth object that she brought in with her. With a flick of her wrist, the red cloth whipped off the object, revealing a clouded silver surface.
My heart sank at the realization of what she wanted me to do. "Lia, I don't like mirrors."
She shook her head, her short blonde hair flying into her eyes. "Just look, Miss. Just once."
Just once.
I stepped to the side, directly in front of the mirror. Very slowly, I lifted my eyes from the staring at the ground to my reflection, not focusing on anything until I met the gaze of the girl in front of me.
That can't be me.
There was no way the person glaring at me unhappily was me. She was wearing the green dress like a princess, not a tavern girl. She was standing straight and tall, not trying to hide behind herself. Her hair color was a deep, rich brown with lighter highlights and the curls weren't a crazy, mass, fuzzy blob, they were carefully curled ringlets that circled her head. Her face wasn't thin with hunger, it was shining with months of being well-fed. Her eyes weren't a dull green; they were a startling electric emerald.
"That's not me."
The words forced their way from my mouth, and the strange girl in the glass copied me. Her face turned from an angry glare to awe--the exact same emotion I felt.
Lia's beaming face reflected back in the mirror. "Aye, Miss. It is you. You're a real beauty, although you don't realize it."
I tore my eyes away from the girl--me--and stepped away. My heart felt like it was going to burst with amazement.
Lia placed the cloth over the mirror again. "You look lovely, Miss. Master will be--it would be amusing to see his reaction."
"How so?"
She smiled slyly and shook her head. "That, Miss, you'll have to find out for yourself."
*****
In all of the fairy tales, the princess glides down the stairs majestically, enchanting everyone around her. She makes no mistakes--no tripping, burping, snorting, falling, eating sloppily--none of that.
Real life is not a fairytale.
Walking down the hallway to get to the steps (Walking. Down. The. Hallway), I managed to somehow trip on the front of the gown that Lia put me in. I went crashing to the floor, hard, at the top of the steps.
Have I mentioned how much I hate dresses?
Thank goodness that the dining room isn't directly below me.
"Lizaveta?"
Kill me now.
I plastered a smile on my face and turned my head. Brennen stood over me, one eyebrow raised in amused curiosity.
"Are you okay?" he asked. He lowered his hand so I could grab it.
Swallow the pride, Zara, and take his hand.
I reached up and wrapped my fingers around his. The back of his hand was slightly fuzzy. "I'm fine. Just admiring the view of the carpet."
"Oh, yes," he replied. "It's very nice, isn't it?"
I rolled my eyes. "Who am I kidding? I tripped on this stupid--" With a fistful of the skirt in my hand, I pulled the outer layer up a little and waved it around like a curse. "--dress."
"Like dresses, do you?"
"Oh yes! I have this unhealthy desire to burn one and laugh every time I see a dress. There is only one word to describe it. One feeling."
Brennen nodded slowly and started to walk down the stairs, with me following behind. "What is this feeling?"
"Loathing. Unadulterated hatred. I could sing about it if you'd like."
He stopped quickly, holding up a hand. "Please don't. If you do, I may have to join in about suits, and that would not be pleasant."
I laughed, then finally noticed what he wore. Instead of the pitch black jacket and shirt he normally was in, he had a garnet suit with silver buttons. The diamond-or-some-type-of-jewel tipped cane that was normally swung around was nowhere to be seen.
"Lizaveta?"
I met his eyes, feeling mine grow. "Yes?"
"Staring much? What's wrong?"
"Nothing." I shook my head and continued my trying-not-to-fall-again walk down the steps. "I guess... You look different. Nice-er."
His eyes softened. "So do you."
Whoever decided to dress us up... I'm going to jump out and hit them so hard, they don't know what happened.
We stopped at the last step and stood awkwardly. I bounced my hands up and down against the side of my dress.
"Are you hungry?" Brennen blurted.
"No." I actually felt like I was full. My stomach was twisting itself into knots.
He nodded and stood, twiddling his thumbs.
We're fine all the rest of the time, but when you dress us up fancy, we suddenly don't know how to speak.
Something shoved me from behind. "Oof," I grunted. With a smirk forming on my face, I turned to face Brennen. "Shoving now?"
He shook his head, eyes wide. "No. I was pushed too."
I opened my mouth to laugh at him, but he proved that he was right by suddenly vaulting across the room. I soon joined him.
"What is shoving us?" I asked, rubbing my back.
"Probably Suzette," Brennen answered. "Don't you smell the food?"
As soon as the word "food" left his mouth, we were pushed farther toward the dining room. A sweet smell hit my nose and my stomach grumbled.
Well, I wasn't hungry.
"Come on," I said. I reached out and grabbed Brennen's hand and pulled him toward the room with food. In a matter of seconds, we were seated at the table, each with a plate piled high with food.
I immediately dug in. Gnawing on a chicken leg, I looked up at Brennen to see his plate untouched.
"Are you not going to eat?"
"Not hungry."
I pointed at a piece of sweet potato bread on his plate. "You should try something, hungry or not."
He pointed up at the silver mask that was hiding his face. "Mask. Makes it pretty difficult to eat."
"Oh." I looked down at my plate, face flushing. "I forgot, sorry. Couldn't you take it off? I won't look if you don't want me to."
Brennen sighed and shook his head. "It's not just the mask, Lizaveta. Food--human food--tastes bad to me."
I sat back, all attention focused on him. "What do you mean, 'bad?'"
"The cake--it tastes like dirt. Chicken--it's like rotten meat. Water is the worst; it's like blood." He started to play with the edge of the dark blue tablecloth. "It's not the food. It's me. How I am--the only substance I can eat or drink is what the Beast gets. When I'm like this--when I'm normal--I have no hunger."
That's horrible!
"It's a fairly new development," he added, noticing the look on my face. I'm sure I was gaping in disbelief. "It's been about fifty years or so since this started."
I pushed myself away from the table, appetite destroyed in a fiery blaze of dread. "Anything else planned for the night?"
No sooner had I said that, a low note sounded out from across the hall. I turned to Brennen and raised an eyebrow questioningly.
He shrugged. "It's coming from the throne room."
"Before the pushing starts, do you want to go check it out?"
He rose from his seat quickly. "Yep. Come on."
Quickly, Brennen walked down the hall, with me following after as fast as I dared. For a second, he got out of sight, then showed up again, basically running in the opposite direction.
I grabbed his elbow as he went by. "What's wrong?"
"Don't go in there." Brennen pointed to the set of doors he exited from.
I smiled. "Why?" The note that started to play when we left the dining room was louder, and definitely coming from the room. Still holding on to Brennen's elbow, I pushed open the doors, expecting a horrible sight, like dead bodies or something.
What I saw would classify under "horrifying." The room was empty, except for five instruments in the corner--a cello, two violins, a harp, and the piano. As soon as I stopped and turned around, the doors shut with a loud snap.
"Crud."
Brennen glanced at me with the I-told-you-so look written all over his face.
Slowly, I turned around to face the instruments. The bow on each violin lifted, then started to play a slow melody.
I thrust my thumb over in their direction. "Nice music."
I didn't get away with that.
As soon as I turned my back to try and open the doors, I was pushed (again!) to the middle of the room. So was Brennen. We stood there, staring at each other exasperatedly.
Then we were shoved into each other.
I swear, whoever is the invisible thing pushing me around, if they show themselves, I will not hesitate to hurt them.
"I think," I mumbled, with my face pushed into Brennen's chest, "that they want us to dance."
"That's what it would seem," he replied.
The force lessened enough that we could separate and stand comfortably.
"Well, are you going to start it?" Brennen questioned.
I laughed. "If you think I know how to dance after living in the Lower Kingdom basically my whole life, you've got another thing coming. You start it."
"I don't remember how! You think I just randomly decided to dance while I was here?"
Before I could respond, my arm started moving, and I wasn't the one controlling it. So did Brennen's. Within a matter of seconds, we were holding each other the way the dancers did in pictures.
I chuckled. "I guess they do."
Gently--not like before when we suffered severe whiplash--the force nudged us in the direction we were supposed to go, moving our feet along with us. Before long, Brennen and I were gliding across the room, and not being controlled by the shovey-person.
We danced for what felt like hours, only pausing when the instruments did. The last time we stopped, the music didn't start back up. I very quickly realized how out of breath Brennen and I were.
He bowed. "Thank you for the dances, My Lady."
I grinned softly and curtsied deeply. "Right back at 'cha."
Brennen chuckled, then his face turned solemn. "May I ask you a question?"
"Only if I get to ask one too."
"You first then."
"Why do you wear the mask?" I blurted. My face turned red almost immediately at the sentence I thrown out without a second thought.
"Huh?"
I started to play with the outer layer of my skirt. "Why do you--why do you still wear the mask?" I mumbled. Good job, Zara. So much for a fun night. Let's just blow it all in one unthought sentence.
He straightened with the realization of what I was asking. "Why do you want to know?"
I swallowed and shook my head. "I guess--I guess it's because I've been in this castle with you for a while, and I've never seen your face uncovered. It's just curiosity, I guess."
He looked away. "You wouldn't want to see. You'd run."
Is that what he's been afraid of? That I would run away if I saw him?
"Brennen," I said gently. I reached up and touched the side of his face. "I will never run."
His eyes searched my face for falsehood. "Close your eyes," he mumbled.
I did. There was a swoosh of strings untying, then a clatter as something metal fell to the floor.
His mask.
I fought back the urge to open my eyes and see him. Gently, Brennen grabbed my hand and placed it on his cheek.
"Feel that?" he whispered. He moved my hand up and down his face so I would feel the deep rivets in his skin. "That is not even scratching the surface of what I look like, Lizaveta."
"Brennen, they're just scars."
He took a deep breath and let go of my hand. I still kept it at his cheek. "If you want," he said shakily, "you may open your eyes now."
I did.
Brennen's eyes were shut, as if he was afraid to see my reaction. A small red line outlined the place where his mask had been, showing how tightly it was tied on. Scars lined his face, some lighter than his skin, and others light pink. They all varied in lengths and sizes--some thin, like a knife made them, and others the same width of his claws. They traveled up and down, side to side on his face, some just on the cheeks, others on his lips.
Carefully, I touched the longest scar on his face and traced my fingers over it. It went from the top of his right ear diagonally across his face, all the way down to the bottom left ear.
"Brennen, you're--"
"Terrifying?" he finished. He opened his red eyes and stared at me, waiting for a conformation.
"No. You're very handsome."
He smiled. Actually smiled. It was tentative, like he was afraid that I'd run away at his lips parting to show his teeth.
That were apparently pointy. They were like shark's teeth inside a human mouth.
Okay then. Pointy teeth it is.
"'Very handsome?' I've heard better lies than that one before. You need to work on that some more."
I laughed. "No, it's true!" I pointed at myself. "Would I lie to you?"
"Do you want me to answer that honestly or not?"
I smacked his shoulder.
"Now for my question," he said, smile fading away quickly.
I waited for him to speak.
"Are you happy here? With me?"
"What?" I was taken aback by his question. What was he getting at?
"Are you happy here, in the castle?"
I searched his face, trying to figure out where he was going. I nodded my head. "Yes. I wasn't at first; I wanted to leave and never return, but now--now I'm happy here. I just--" I bit my lip, not knowing how to say what I was going to say. "I miss Joshua and Vadik. I wish I could see them again."
He closed his eyes and bit his lip, tensing up. "Leave," he choked out.
It felt like he just dunked me in a vat of ice water. "What?"
Brennen reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a silver chain. He grabbed my hand and placed it in my palm carefully.
I looked down. "My necklace," I whispered. "Where did you find it?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he stared at me with eyes of stone. "It'll take you home. Put it on before you go into your room, and it will take you to where you are thinking of. Don't lose it."
"Brennen--"
He held up his hand and looked away, breathing quickly. "Lizaveta, leave. Go home. Please."
A tear fell down my cheek. I stepped close to him, wanting a hug. He moved back.
"I'll come back," I whispered. "I'll come back in a week."
He stared at me in disbelief. "As long as you have the necklace, you can go anywhere you wish. But I do not expect to see you here. Ever."
"Brennen, I--" I what?
"Leave, Lizaveta. Now."
I backed away, not taking my eyes off him until I reached the door. Brennen's back was turned and tensed, holding himself together.
A tear fell down my cheek. I don't want to go.
"No."
He turned around. "What?"
I bit my lip. "I won't leave. I'm staying here, with you."
In felt like less than a second before he was beside me. Slowly, he raised his hand and wiped away the tear that fell down my face. I searched his eyes, wanting to find something--anything that would say that he wanted me to stay.
"Lizaveta, please. Something is happening-- something bad," he whispered.
The hand withdrew from my cheek. "If you don't leave willingly, then I will force you to. You have to go."
My eyes flew open. He trembled, his back turned to me.
"Why? Why do you want me to leave so much?"
"Because you have family!" he yelled. I jumped, startled by his outburst.
Again, he turned to face me. His fists clenched and unclenched. "You have family, and you love them. My only family--my wife, my son--they died over two hundred years ago. Raul is gone. I have nothing."
I didn't move, the meaning of his words slowly sinking in.
"But you do. You have a father and a brother who are waiting for you. So, I tell you this." He grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly. "Go home for a week, no more, no less. On the seventh day, if you still want to be here, then come. I won't stop you."
He let go and walked away, turning his back once more. "But I doubt you'll come."
I caught my breath. Slowly, I pushed open the doors to the throne room and left, holding onto the cross necklace in my fist. I slipped it onto my my neck, still walking to my room.
It'll only be a week. I'll keep the necklace; no one will ever see it.
The dark of the castle seemed to press onto my chest as I reached my room. I stared at the handles.
"I'll be back," I whispered, hoping Brennen would somehow hear.
The feeling in my chest didn't leave as I pushed open the doors to my room and stepped through.
Take me home.
_______________________________________
So, they finally got to the Beauty and the Beast scene.
Oh my goodness that was so hard to write.
I've said before, I don't do romance, and I'm writing a romance-ish book. I had to dig the romance-y stuff out of me for this one.
Well, those of you who know the stories know that this is probably the happiest chapter y'all will get until the end.
BWAHAHA. I get to be dark now😁😁
See you then!
Noa.