"Do you fence?"
The question – a diversion from the usual path of conversation – took The Beast by surprise, almost making him turn in his seat.
A week after Beldon and The Beast had settled into a routine, Beldon threw the question in, half way through his description of his day.
The Beast caught himself at the last moment and leant back against his chair. "Why do you ask?" he asked.
"Because, as nice as it is to walk the grounds and read to my heart's content, I still get bored. I want to practice my fencing again."
"You fenced?"
"I'm not bad at it," Beldon said, taking a sip of his wine.
"Is that so?"
"I happen to rather like sports," Beldon said, "and you, do you fence?"
Silence met him and Beldon pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"So after lunch I went back to the lake," he started, continuing with where he left off about his day's activities.
"Who did you fence with before?" The Beast cut in, startling Beldon. It was the first time The Beast had ever initiated a conversation, even if it was just a continuation of one he started. "Did you have a instructor? Or did you just spar against your brothers?"
"Both," Beldon said, "I had instructors and I sparred with my brothers and my friends."
"Your friends," The Beast mused quietly. Silence fell again and Beldon raised an eyebrow. "Tell me about them? Your friends."
Beldon stared at him. Well someone was talkative today. He didn't comment on it though, he didn't want The Beast to go quiet again – even if it was him who did the majority of the talking.
"Well," he said slowly, "most of my friends are from my boarding school days – many of those were my friends from court as well."
"You attended court?"
"Often enough," Beldon said, "my father is a merchant... and we lost our fortune... but before that we were one of the richest families in the country and my mother was from a noble line."
"Yet she married a merchant? Isn't that below her status?"
"It wasn't about status!" Beldon snapped. The Beast turned, clearly surprise and the firelight reflected against his eyes before he turned away again and Beldon blinked, then cleared his throat and sat back. "It was not about status for them," he continued, calmer, "They loved each other, that was all that mattered."
"Loved? Past tense?"
"She's dead," Beldon said bluntly and continued on before the tangent could lengthen. "So yes, many of my friends from school were my friends from court. Though, as you might imagine, most of them are no longer my friends after the loss of money. Who knows, now that my family has its riches back, they might be but I am not around to find out."
He let that sit in the air for a moment, but The Beast didn't even stir at the comment, making Beldon sigh.
"A few of my friends did remain, however," he said, "Angelo and William were both friends that remained after the loss, saying they did not care about the money." He smiled slightly. "So long as a man can have a good drink and a good time, then he is a good friend," he muttered, "that was their motto. Clearly I could do both so they stayed in contact. Then there was Raoul."
He stopped at that, looking at his food. He swallowed, then picked up his wine glass again.
"After I moved to the country, I made friends in the village."
"Wait, what of your friend, Raoul?"
"What of him?" Beldon said, his shoulders tensing.
"You mention him and then explain nothing."
"There's nothing to explain," Beldon said. He bit his lip, looking at his wine, then looked up. "He was my childhood friend, it is only natural that he stay in contact with me."
"You're voice has changed."
"What do you mean?"
"I can hear it, there's a pain in your voice, why?"
Beldon's eyes narrowed. "I miss him," he said honestly, then closed his eyes. "So then I found friends in the village when I moved to the country. The sons and daughters of the local farmers and traders were willing to befriend me. Some with less then honest intentions, some out of kindness."
"Less then honest?"
Beldon waved it away. "Unimportant. The ones who were honest were those like Elizabeth."
"A lady-friend?"
"Just a friend. And Christian."
He grimaced, thinking of his last encounter with Christian. Yes they had been friends, good friends until Christian had revealed his feelings and Beldon couldn't return them – then his attitude had changed, he had become more aggressive and pushy, demanding Beldon's attention – but when he wasn't being like that, he had still been a good friend... and he still reminded Beldon of Raoul.
"Then there was Jean," he continued, "probably my closest friend in the village." He smiled slightly. "He had no luck with the ladies, no matter how much he tried. He's a good sport... a little too possessed by the desire for money and the life he could make with a fortune... and the women he could have with a fortune, that obsession always made him a little dangerous if you got him on the topic or handed him an easy opportunity... but he was always kind to me." He smiled, rolling his eyes. "He would talk about my past fortune every now and then, but always to ask my advice about where he should buy and what he should buy when he finally came into his fortune. I humoured him."
"Why?"
"Because he had no reason to be my friend if he just wanted money and connections. I had no money or connections that he knew about. Just a fallen rich boy with nothing but himself left."
"And yet I'm sure you had luck with the ladies."
Beldon looked up.
"How is it he stayed friends with you when you would be so lucky in love and he wasn't?"
"I was not lucky in love," Beldon muttered.
"Oh? You were not lucky with the ladies?"
"I could be if I wanted to be, but I was not lucky in love," Beldon said, then set his knife and fork on his plate, finished eating, and placed his napkin to the side, folding his arms on the table, looking at the back of The Beast's cloak.
"So," he said, "There you have it, a little about my friends, will you return the favour and tell me of yours?"
"I do not have friends," The Beast said, and Beldon couldn't quite place the tone of the stress on the word friends. Was that a sneer? Or something else.
He didn't press it. "So back to my original question, do you fence?"
"I will find you a fencing partner," The Beast replied instead.
Beldon instantly straightened, his eyes brightening. "Really?"
"Yes. There are other servants here besides the two you know. I shall have a few more join you, some of them know how to fence."
Beldon smiled. "Thank you," he said, standing up.
"You've finished?"
"I've finished," Beldon said and The Beast rose to his feet and swept back into the shadows, leaving by the door hidden at the back of the room. "Goodnight," Beldon called after him before hearing the click as the door closed.
~~~~~
As promised, the next day Beldon was greeted by his promised sparring partner. Out of everything he had seen in the castle, his sparring partner – Julius – was the most normal looking – dressed all in sharp, tight black – apart from the white mask he wore, it's mouth closed and it's eyes black.
But Julius spoke like a normal person, he sounded like a young man, just slightly taller then Beldon, his brunette hair slicked back against his head.
Yes, everything about him was relatively normal apart from that mask.
But he could fence.
And this was all Beldon cared about.
He had a sparring partner... though they quickly discovered Beldon was the better fencer, Julius endeavoured to keep up with him until they finally wore each other out on the third day.
"Enough!" Julius cried as he only narrowly dodged a lunge from Beldon's sword that would have struck his neck.
Beldon instantly drew back and they both sank to the floor of the ballroom they had been fencing in, both breathing hard.
"You are holding up longer," Beldon said, gasping, setting his sword aside.
"I have learnt to anticipate your movements a little better," Julius said, running a hand through his hair, which was no longer so sleek. "I find that is the best way to keep the matches going for longer."
"We can stop for today," Beldon said, already starting to catch his breath again, rubbing his shoulder.
"It is a shame The Master does not spar with you," Julius said, slowly getting to his feet, rubbing his muscles before collecting the swords.
"Oh?" Beldon said, looking up as he pulled off his gear.
"Indeed, The Master is an excellent swordsman," Julius said, taking the gear, "at least he was. It has been a very long time since he last sparred with anyone."
"How long is long?" Beldon asked.
"Long enough to surprise you, Sir," Julius said and Beldon could hear a smile to his tone.
"So why didn't he mention it when I asked him?"
"Probably because The Master no longer interacts with the world," Julius said, holding out a hand and pulling Beldon to his feet, "it has been a long time since he did anything with anyone. Easier to find you a companion than be a companion himself. Dinner alone is hard enough."
Beldon looked at him, then pursed his lips slightly, looking out of the ballroom doors. He could see out across the balcony to the balcony of the West Wing from where he stood.
"What will you do for the rest of the day?" Julius asked.
"I think I will go to the library," Beldon said, straightening out his clothes. "I just finished a good book so I want to find something new to start."
"Of course," Julius said, bowing, "I shall attend to the equipment and we shall meet again tomorrow."
"Thank you," Beldon said as they left the ballroom and parted ways.
For the rest of the day – and after the sunset – Beldon hunted the thousands of shelves for a book. He just couldn't choose. There were more then enough that should have interested him, but they just didn't quite grab him and hold fast his attention.
It was closing in on the time he would have to return to his rooms to ready for dinner when he found a back corner he hadn't noticed before and started hunting through the books there.
They were more books on legends, myths and fairy tales. The Battle of Troy, the stories of the sirens, George and The Dragon, The Sleeping Beauty, research on unicorns, The Missing Prince.
He stopped at a book about the legends of the Greek Gods, reaching for it and sliding it out.
He frowned. The book hadn't moved. It was jammed in tight between two books about fairy tales. Digging his nails in, he adjusted his grip and yanked the book free.
It came away so easily this time it startled Beldon, making him stumble back and lose his footing, colliding backwards into the opposite bookshelf.
He stood there a moment, blinking, all his weight held up by the bookshelf and then suddenly, the shelves gave way under him and he fell right through the wall.