The next morning, rays of sunlight pierce the white-gold curtains hanging over the windows. Tyler wakes up in the unfamiliar yet fancy room, and he's delirious. He takes one look at the mirror hanging across the room facing the bed and remembers where he is and how he got here.
His mother. The beast-prince-guy. The clock and the candle. Tyler feels sick.
"Oh, shit," he mumbles, running his hand through his unkempt hair. "It wasn't a dream."
Somehow, he'd gotten under the covers, the soft silk duvet drawing him further into the bed. Tyler is exhausted despite sleeping all night and he's tempted to stay in the bed, but he knows he can't avoid the beast for long. He throws the sheets off and the moment his feet touch the sleek dark wood floor, there's a knock at the door.
"Bonjour!" Ryan's voice echoes from the other side of the door.
"Leave me alone," Tyler calls back bitterly, looking down at his clothes. Despite being the best clothes he owned, they looked like rags compared to the riches around him.
Ryan opens the door a crack, smiling softly. "I have come to request your presence for breakfast. You had quite a long night, and our prince was hoping you would be willing to-"
"No."
His refusal must've caught Ryan off guard, because the wick in his hair flickered to a pale white. "I am sorry, monsieur, but I must insist," he says.
"If he wants me out of this room, he will have to come and ask himself," Tyler shoots back, flying back and landing face first on the best.
He hears Ryan leave and shut the door quietly behind him. Moments later, the door explodes with loud rapping knocks, making Tyler almost jump out of his skin.
"Come to breakfast!" A voice bellows. It's not the beast's voice- at least, not completely. There's a deep intonation Tyler recognizes from his voice before, but it's lost its roughness and sounds more like a person rather than a monster. "That is an order!"
"I am not hungry!" Tyler shouts in response.
"I am ordering you to-"
"You cannot order me around, I am your prisoner, not your servant!"
He hears a growl, the closest sound to the beast he's heard so far. When a beat passes and no other sound comes through, Tyler assumes he's left.
Tyler takes his time looking through the room, examining every piece of furniture. A rough yet fancy rug lies in the center of the room, large gilded portraits of who he assumes to be the royal family hanging on the walls. The clothing into the wide, ornate dresser sitting in the corner seems to be for a young boy. He wonders whose room this was.
"What to wear, what to wear," he mumbles, picking out a silk baby blue button down and white slacks, which when he put on, seems to fit him perfectly. "I hope he minds, and he makes me leave, that insufferable bastard."
After showering in the marble bathroom attached to the bedroom and getting dressed in the clothes he found, Tyler opens the door a crack, seeing a teenage boy asleep against the wall across his room. His eyes are closed yet they run rampant behind his eyelids, tan hands twitching in his lap every so often. He has dark, curly hair tucked under a thin silver and blue crown, the royal emblem sewed into the pocket of his white shirt.
Had the beast lied about being the only member of the family left? This boy certainly looks to be royalty but has no resemblance to the monster he'd met before. Tyler steps into the hall and sees a plate of eggs and bread and a water glass sitting beside him, untouched.
He remembers how he saw this boy in the beast's reflection the night before, and the mental puzzle pieces slide into place. Although he'd told Tyler his name, he can't quite remember what is is.
"Excuse me," Tyler says, nudging the boy with his bare foot.
The boy jerks up, the crown sliding his head. He pushes it up, and Tyler sees that despite the fact that he looks normal, his eyes have stayed the same; they kept their catlike shaped pupils, the irises a mesmerizing yellow-green.
"Do I know you?" Tyler acts dumb, hoping the boy will leave if he does.
He's wrong. The prince stands, standing a couple inches shorter than him but Tyler takes a step back anyway. Even though he doesn't look like the beast, his eyes are still intimidating.
"Will you come and eat breakfast with me now?" He asks, gesturing to the food. "Please."
Same voice. Same eyes. Same aura of reticence. Tyler is right. This boy is the beast.
"You are the beast that I met yesterday," Tyler says, unable to believe it. "How are you human?"
"It is a part of the curse," he mumbles, fixing his crown. A curl sticks up. "I am human when day breaks, and a monster the moment the sun sets."
"Curse, what- oh."
The same curse that caused Brendon to become a clock and Ryan to become a candlestick. Tyler wonders why they were cursed so, since he has no verbal filter, he asks.
He bristles, obviously uncomfortable with opening up to someone he just met. Perhaps he'd overstepped, seeing how they just met the night before.
Tyler kneels down, picking up the plate and glass and putting on the friendliest smile he can. "Shall we eat?" If he was going to spend the rest of his life with the prince, he might as well get comfortable.
The boy stares at him and nods slowly, leading Tyler to an extravagant dining hall, the table longer than any he's ever seen before. A variety of lit candles adorned the center, along with tea cups that seemed to be moving on their own. There's only one plate sitting at the very head of the table.
"Do none of the others eat with you?" Tyler asks, setting his plate down beside the prince's. When he gets no responds, he continues. "Is it because they are your servants or because they are furniture?"
"Unlike our master, we do not need to eat to survive," a booming female voice appears behind him, making him jump.
He turns to see a woman standing behind him, holding a tray full of tea cups and a pot. Everything about her screams artificial. She's quite beautiful, but her pale skin shines like ivory and there's no color in her eyes. Her blonde hair is held back in a loose braid, strands falling on her face. She has a wide smile, and Tyler thinks she's a mannequin before she begins to speak again.
"Oh, dear, did I frighten you?" Her voice is smooth and warm like hot liquid. "I apologize, I guess my appearance is quite bizarre for our new guest."
"This is Jenna Potts, my advisor," the prince mumbles, waving a hand to her before scooting Tyler's chair out for him. He won't meet his eyes.
"Tyler Joseph." Tyler holds his hand out to Jenna, who shakes it. Her skin feels like porcelain. "I am sorry if this is rude, but what are you?"
She tilts her head back and laughs, the sound airy and quiet. "You are a quick one, I see. I am actually a tea pot. Was it the eyes or the hand?"
"Both, actually. You are quite beautiful for a.. kettle."
Jenna laughs airily. The prince clears his throat, and she winks at Tyler, gesturing him to sit. She sets an tea cup beside his plate, then moves around him to set another in front of the boy.
"Do you require anything else, Prince Joshua?" She asks.
"No, Jenna. Thank you."
Joshua. That's his name. Tyler watches him as Joshua unfolds the white napkin in front of him, tucking it into the collar of his shirt. He looks down, seeing three forks, two spoons, and four glasses, including the one with water and the tea cup.
Overwhelmed by everything, Tyler doesn't move, only stares as Joshua begins to eat, taking the fork farthest from the plate and beginning to eat. He hesitantly copies his actions, hoping Joshua can't see how nervous he is.
"You have never eaten in a place like this, have you?"
Tyler chokes on his first bite of eggs, his face turning hot. "Do not make fun of me. I have not seen this many forks in one house since we moved to France."
"Are you not from here?" Joshua asks. "I should have guessed, your accent is different."
"Yes, I moved here from Romania after-" Tyler pauses, looking across the table to the empty chair on the far end. He wishes he'd sat there instead of so close to the beastly prince. "We came here to live with my aunt after my father's death."
"Oh. I am.... sorry for your loss," Josh says.
"As am I."
Don't get too friendly now, Tyler mentally scolds himself. He took you away from the only family you have left.
He plucks a grape from a bowl in the center, trying not to stare at Joshua. The beast-prince fairly attractive, minus his monstrous eyes, and under other circumstances, he would've been attracted to him. Relationships between men weren't wrong, although they were rarer in France than in Romania, as Tyler found out, but not persecuted like they were in Britain.
As much as Tyler wants to hate the prince sitting beside him, he can't help but feel pity for him being unable to control the curse put upon him. Unless...
"May I ask again why you were cursed, or is that overstepping?" He asks.
Joshua coughs slightly in surprise and wipes his mouth with the napkin tucked into his shirt. Tyler sees a flash of fangs poking between his lips. He realizes that his eyes aren't the only permanent effects of the curse.
"My father was dealing with dark magic to keep control of the kingdom," Josh begins after a bout of silence. "He captured magical beings and killed them for their abilities. One day he accidentally summoned a goddess. She was furious at him for meddling and, after he tried to kill her for her power, cursed the castle and every other member of the royal inside. I was the only survivor as I was in the village when this occurred, but when I stopped foot in the castle... I turned into a hideous beast. All of the servants were... changed. The goddess said the spell could be broken only if-"
He stops and looks up, almost startled.
"If what?" Tyler asks.
His pupils go thin. Tyler looks around, then realizes Josh is startled by him.
"What is the matter?"
"Nothing, nothing at all," Josh replies quickly, pushing his chair out and throwing his napkin on the table. "Brendon!"
The ticking man appears at his side, fiddling nervously with the hour and minute hand on his chest. "Yes, your majesty?"
"Give our... guest a tour of the castle." He looks at Tyler, who's confused. "You will have access to most of the castle, but you are forbidden from ever going into the West Wing."
"What is in there?" Tyler stands as well, but Josh waves a hand, and his nails seems to extend. He sits back down.
Josh walks off, heading out of the dining hall. As soon as the doors shut behind him, he hears howling. Brendon jumps, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Are you done eating, monsieur?"
"Yes, thank you."
He takes Tyler's hand and drags him through the castle, explaining every piece of tapestry and art hanging in the walls. His voice drones on and on, not in an annoying way, but Tyler can't help but be distracted the entirety of the tour.
The West Wing never leaves his mind.