He was no man. He was a beast. There was no other way to describe him, even that, he knew. He was a beast by all standards, a horrific sight to behold.
Where some made up stories of the horrible man who lived within the walls of the isolated Rose Castle, none could be truer than those that called him a cantankerous young man who wished for no company, but that of himself. Yes, the Beast prowled the castle grounds, with his loyal servants at his beck and call.
The gates, overgrown with twisting, thorn-ridden ivy, were always closed. Not a single person had entered in years. Infamously, roses were said to bloom in the dead of winter on the coldest of nights among the pricks and thorns on the gate. People would whisper of the man who lived there. The man who cultivated the monstrosities that were so unlike any other plant.
Yes, Rose Castle was an apt name for such a looming building set in the middle of the Dark Forest. Despite the obviously unkempt gate, the castle itself was always in a state of beauty, remarkable for the lack of effort seen to be put into the exterior.
On nights in which the moon was hidden behind heavy-hanging clouds it was said the Beast would come from his castle to walk the grounds. A terrifying man that stood over six feet tall and always wore a torn cape that would swirl in the wind behind him when he moved. A penetrating onyx gaze would meet the eyes of those daring enough to venture so close to the Beast's lair.
Many remarked on the predatory way in which he carried himself. The way his teeth seemed to brush against his bottom lip. How his nails seemed like claws when they took a moment to look closer at the Beast. They would speak of his messy, short black hair and unshaven jaw that was always just lightly dusted in stubble.
Some woman even talked of how if he was more agreeable and less of a monster that they would no doubt be swooning over such a catch. Of course, that was quickly followed by horrible comments on what they would do to, and do for such a man.
Men would talk among themselves about how much better they were than such an animal. They were lost in seas of envy and desire for such attention. One man was at the very pinnacle of it all. His name was Cassius.
He was the bachelor of the small, pathetic town of Vell. With a hulking figure and an indisputable muscular form, he was well sought out by females. Yet, he didn't want to settle down, rather liking the idea of staying a bachelor for a lot longer.
Cassius was the type of rogue in which no one could condemn or else they would risk his wrath. He was also the same type to use his charming exterior to lure a woman to his bedchambers every night, year after year, without fail.
Though there were many who despised the Beast for garnering so much attention there stood a single figure who did not scorn the man. The one figure was an old baker who would thoughtfully stare out at the night sky, ignoring the other pub-goers. He would hold a single tankard of ale in his hands, his only one that night. The man would sit in the seat closest to the window and he would watch the clouds move closer and closer to the moon. His name was Merrick, an older gentleman who had lived a fulfilling life.
Merrick would disappear out the door of the pub with a light toss of coins to the wooden counter next to his empty tankard. A breath of relief would leave him as he would cross the abandoned town square in the middle of the night. Silence would calm his frayed nerves during his long walk.
The forest should have scared him terribly so. Yet, he knew the worn path that led to Rose Castle as he knew the back of his own hand. He would make his way to the castle, where the Beast was said to reside. Old, yet lively, sparkling green eyes would watch for the Beast's inevitable appearance.
Some nights he didn't make it in time to see the Beast. Yet, other nights he was lucky enough to watch the large man cross across the yard, shadows surrounding him. The Beast, to this single man, was intriguing, a mystery that begged to be solved.
Perhaps he should have been at home with his wife, taking care of their scholarly daughter who read constantly. Perhaps he should have been trying to ward away any men who wanted her, despite her being only sixteen. Yet, she was so very independent and he was far too infatuated with who the Beast really was.
Who was the man behind the fur cape? Who was the man who terrified the public so?
They haunted his thoughts during the nights. He would watch the Beast as he prowled, unable to move his gaze away. He was locked in his own thoughts about the man. Yet, without fail, the Beast would meet his gaze.
His onyx eyes were always distanced and cold. Yet, there was an air about the man, as if he was as interested in someone who would dare come night after night to his castle. Unlike the visits of heckling boys who wished to make a name for themselves and those of females who tried to flaunt themselves before his empty gaze, the old man wouldn't make a sound. Instead, they would stare at one another for the longest time, not once breaking eye contact at all. When the Beast felt like he had stayed out long enough, or rather the man had, he would turn and disappear back inside his dark oak doors once more.
One such night, Merrick watched as the Beast disappeared, a longing sound leaving him. One of these times, Merrick thought, I will call out something to him. I have so many questions for him! They overflow my mind and drown me in discontent! I do not believe he would deign to tell me the answers, though.
With one last look at Rose Castle, Merrick would turn to disappear into the Dark Forest once more. He couldn't feel the Beast's onyx eyes following him through the colored paned window by the front dark oak doors. It was best that way. If the Beast was seen showing such interest, it would only encourage the old man.
Yes, it is better this way, he thought with a nod of his head.
"Sir? Is the older gentleman already gone?" commented a man who was a few years younger than the Beast.
With a wave of his callused hand, the Beast turned. "Yes," he responded gruffly.
The servant watched as the Beast stormed away. Ah, the Lord of the castle does not like to be caught, no? The servant smiled at his own train of thought, knowing how he was supposed to be working elsewhere in the castle. Yet, his master's interest in those outside had always fascinated him, immensely. Of course, the man wouldn't admit to such thoughts, but they were there. That, the male servant was sure of.
Instead of following and further angering his master, the servant stood in the middle of the warm entrance. His figure was ramrod straight, but there was a glitter in his eyes that said that despite the serious facade he was ready to joke about the whole scene.
"You truly have no notion of secrecy Liyor! Did you not see how well you angered, master? He will be in a stew for far too much time, now! You may have even ruined his dinner!" a portly man snapped.
He had enough paunch for both men, leaving Liyor to be nearly a twig. The tall, servant smiled at the other. "Why Zaman, is dinner the only thing that you think about?" he purred. The portly man quickly grew bright red, until even the tips of his ears resembled a bright shade of scarlet. "Just jesting!" Liyor called out, already having walked quite a few feet away.
Zaman strutted over, or really wobbled. His legs heavy, like that of a cooked turkey, shuffling forward. He had no hope, even in his rage, of catching up with the long, easy stride that was Liyor's. "H-honestly! You are the most- the most- the... argh! I cannot stand you! Why master has yet to have thrown you out is beside me!" the portly servant snapped out. His eyes, a deep shade of brown, were still flaming like a hearth that had been given fresh dry wood to burn.
"Ah, if you wanted to know so badly, I could have told you awhile ago!" He didn't speak for a long moment, his eyebrow raised and a wide smile lighting his face. "It is my charm, of course!" Liyor exclaimed with a swirling spin. His cotton shirt flared up slightly, accentuating the movement and his mood perfectly.
Where the twig of a man was quite happy, Zaman was less than pleased. His mouth was curled downward, and his hands trembled in tight fists at his sides. "Why! Argh!" he shouted at nothing. Liyor had already disappeared down some hall, quickly outmaneuvering the portly timekeeper.
The short man took out his shiny golden watch, looking at the ticking of the hands behind the glass. His eyes scoured over the item before he let out a huff. Liyor was not supposed to be in that section of the castle yet! He clicked his tongue, shuffling forward. One hand slipped to his belly as to keep it from moving too much during his exhausting trek onward.
He knew at once what was going on as he heard the sounds of giggling laughter and a woman murmuring indistinctly in another language. "Not again! That rascal is up to his old tricks, no doubt. Should be working by now! What a disgraceful misuse of time," the man snapped, eyes flashing once more.
His cheeks seemed to grow pink as he took a sharp turn around a corner. Or rather, it should have been a sharp turn. Instead, it was more of a curve with a wobble of his legs as he grew unsteady. Zaman quickly caught his balance once more to view Liyor with his mouth on a woman's neck, whispering things to her.
A low giggle left her once more. "No! I must not, Liyor," she purred. With one last longing look towards him, she sauntered away. The male servant moved to grab her hand when he felt the steaming rage that seemed to come off of something behind him. He turned and smiled at Zaman.
"Ah, I am in love!" he exclaimed to Zaman. He rushed forward, sweeping the portly man into a waltzing movement. Zaman sputtered and jerked away from Liyor's grasp with a hard breath of air. "Do you not feel it in the air?" Liyor pressed a hand to his chest and moved backward in a swooning motion. "She has ensnared me, Zaman. I am so utterly lost without her!"
"Well then, you can be lost while doing your job! Go light the candles for dinner, you daft fool! The master will be greatly displeased if your work is not done!" Zaman growled. Liyor took a long look down the hall that his flirtation had disappeared into.
"What sweet misery this is... Ah, but I will go. I will work, though I doubt it will make much of a difference. It is just so dreary in here anyway! Who would notice a few flames not flickering?" the man responded. Instead of waiting to hear Zaman's response, the twig of a man disappeared down the hall once more.
Zaman shook his head, finding his hand slipping to his watch once more. A satisfactory noise left him as everything started going the way it was supposed to. He turned and started off to make sure that everyone was doing their work..
---
A/N~ Hope you enjoyed this first chapter into the world of The Beast of Rose Castle! Here is the way to pronounce the names, since I get how people want to know when they are reading them!
Cassius (KAS-ee-əs)
Merrik (MER-ik)
Liyor (LEE-yuh-o-rr)
Zaman (z-AH-mm-ah-n)