Beast Lord: (Beauty and the Beast) (Tangled Tales Book 3) (5 page)

“I simply asked the servants questions.”

“Stop interrupting. Now I said – you walk into my castle as if you own it and –”

“I do own it. Well, my father does. You don’t own it, so stop pretending like you do.”

“Enough!” he bellowed. “You chopped off my hair without my consent and made me look so hideous that I don’t want to be seen by anyone.”

“You were hideous even with the hair,” she said, blurting it out before she could think of the consequences of speaking this way to him. Still, she didn’t like to be spoken to or treated this way by anyone – even if it was a socially accepted act from a male. Men could even cheat on or beat their wives, and no one would hold them responsible. She didn’t like this at all. And she especially didn’t like this man for taking over her father’s castle. She’d yet to find out where they’d taken him or who had taken him for that matter. All she knew from talking to the servants was that her father was taken, and Stefan came to help her father and his men.

“You will pay for speaking to me like that!” He pushed her down on the bed, and when he did, the mirror that was tucked under his belt fell atop the pallet, but he didn’t see it. She was surprised he could see anything at all since his one eye was still swelled a little, and both of them were blood red. He reminded her of the devil.

“Don’t touch me!” she said, not sure if he planned on defiling her, but she would fight to her death if she had to, rather than be touched by this beast. She would claw at his stitches in order to stop him, or even kick him in the face.

“I don’t plan on it,” he snapped. “You are nothing but trouble to me and will be locked in this room, seeing no one, and only coming out when I tell you that you can.”

“You can’t do that.” She moved atop the bed and when she did, her book fell to the ground.

“I can and I will. And what’s this?” He picked up the book and though she grabbed for it, he pushed her arm away. She had half a mind to dig her nails into his burnt and bandaged flesh, but decided against it. He might get so angry he’d damage the book, and that would be the last thing she’d want. It meant a lot to her, and she would do whatever it took to get it back.

“That’s my book, now please return it to me.”

“The –” he tilted his head and read the title using his good eye. “Romance of the . . . Rose?” He sounded as if the word rose bothered him and like he almost didn’t even want to say it. “Squire, take this book and put it in my solar.” He handed the book to Trumble.

“Aye, my lord.” The boy was clumsy and almost dropped it, and her heart skipped a beat.

“Please. Be careful with that,” she warned him.

“You will not talk to me or my squire in that tone of voice. Now you will stay here until I call for you – if I ever do.” With that he stormed out of the room with his squire right behind him. She heard a key turning in the lock. Once they were gone she ran to the door and pulled on the latch, but the door would not open.

“Let me out, let me out,” she shouted, banging her fists against the thick wood. “I demand you let me out of here.” After a few minutes her fists became raw and she gave up and ran to the window. She pulled the tapestry down to the floor, and waved her arms and shouted out the open window next. That did no good. There were only a few children playing in the courtyard, and no one even heard her. Then she went back to the bed and sat down, ready to cry. But something caught her interest.

The mirror the beast had dropped onto the bed was glowing. She carefully reached out her hand and picked it up and peered inside. There was a fog at first, but then it cleared and her eyes opened wide when she saw the image . . . of her father!

Chapter 5

“Papa, I’m here. Can you hear me? Where are you?”

Bonnibel saw the face of her father and he seemed to be running in the woods. He looked tired, frightened and . . . injured. Then she saw men on horseback chasing after him, and he hid behind a bush.

“Papa, no!” she cried. “Where are you?” She saw a castle in the distance, but she didn’t know where he was. Then the image started to fade and her eyes filled with tears. She reached out to touch the mirror, her finger running down the surface as her father’s image slowly disappeared.

“Give me my mirror,” came a hoarse voice. Startled, Bonnibel jumped up off the bed with the mirror in her hand. She looked up to see an old hag in a long, dark cloak standing there.

“Who – who are you and where did you come from?”

“Never mind that, now give it to me.” The old woman reached out a bony hand, meaning to take the mirror from her.

“No,” she said, quickly holding it behind her back and taking a step backwards. “You’re that witch – Hecuba, aren’t you?” Her other hand reached for her dagger at her waist, but to her horror she realized she’d left it on the bedside table before she’d fallen asleep last night. Her eyes trailed over to it, and the witch saw her. She lunged for her dagger, but the witch waved her hand and by the power of some invisible force, knocked her to the ground. Then she leaned over and snatched the mirror away from her.

“Don’t think he’s going to change, because he won’t,” she told her.

“Who won’t? What are you talking about?” asked Bonnibel.

“He has no love in his heart, but of course you already know that. I don’t care, because either way it’s going to be amusing.”

“Are you talking about Sir Stefan?”

“I’m talking about the beast. The beast that is going to end up consuming him in no time at all. Now that my mirror has been returned to me – I’ll be watching his every move.” She laughed and seemed as if she enjoyed the idea of watching people suffer. No matter how much of a beast Sir Stefan was, this woman was even worse.

Bonnibel grabbed the dagger and lunged at the old witch. She brought the blade down with force – and ended up only stabbing her own sleeping pallet. The witch had disappeared in a puff of green smoke.

The sound of stone scraping over stone caught her attention, and she turned to see the hearth moving to the side as someone emerged from one of the secret tunnels she remembered as a child. Out stepped a young woman who looked to be a servant.

“My lady, my lady, are you hurt?” The girl held out her skirt and curtseyed. She was a short girl who looked to be around five and ten years of age, maybe a little older. She had dark burgundy hair twisted around and tucked up under a small white kerchief and wore a plain, drab, rough-hewn brown gown.

“Who are you and what do you want?” Bonnibel asked, heading across the room to meet the girl. The girl saw the dagger in her hand and her eyes opened wide and she got down on her knees.

“Please, m’lady, don’t kill me. I only came for more wood to stack the hearth and light the fire.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Bonnibel placed the dagger back into the scabbard at her waist and reached out a hand to the girl. “My name is Bonnibel. I am the daughter of the lord of the castle.”

The girl seemed to accept that she wouldn’t be hurt and reached out and took Bonnibel’s hand and got to her feet.

“You are the daughter of the Beast?” she asked in horror.

“No! I’m not related to Sir Stefan – that horrible man. I’m daughter to your previous lord.”

“Lord Breckenridge,” said the girl with a nod of her head. “I am Sibeal. I am sorry to have disturbed you, my lady.”

“Were you spying on me?” asked Bonnibel, peering into the darkness of the tunnel. “And is anyone else with you? Why are you even using the hidden tunnel?” She remembered the tunnels from her time living at the castle when she was a child. She actually used to play in the tunnels at one time, but something scared her one day and she’d never entered them again. She couldn’t quite remember what it was that had frightened her, but she did remember that there were rats in the tunnel, and as she’d tried to escape them, she’d ended up lost.

“I am alone, my lady. And although these tunnels have not been used in many years, the new lord has given the order that his face is not to be looked upon. So the servants have decided rather than to anger him more, we’ll use the tunnels in the walls to do our chores, and stay hidden.”

“Really? I suppose that makes sense, but I think Sir Stefan is being ridiculous.”

“Not at all, my lady,” the girl said and curtseyed again. “We do what he wants and don’t question his command.”

“Well, this is my father’s castle, and Sir Stefan isn’t your lord. And I do question his command.”

“Please, my lady, if you don’t mind – the servants would rather not be in the same room as the Beast Lord, as he frightens us.”

“Beast Lord?” she asked in amusement.

Sibeal held a hand up to her mouth and gasped. “Oh, I cannot believe I said that aloud. Please don’t tell him what I said, or I am sure I will be punished.”

“I won’t say a word.” She held her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I understand how you feel, but the man doesn’t scare me, nor will he give the orders in my father’s castle. For now, you and the other servants go ahead and use the tunnels to do your chores. I’m sure you know there are peepholes in every room so you can be certain Sir Stefan is not in his chamber before you enter.”

“Of course, my lady. And I only entered now because I saw that nasty old woman and how she treated you. Honest, I only wanted to protect you, Lady Bonnibel.” The girl got down on her knees again. “Please forgive me for entering.”

“Get up, Sibeal. I am glad you entered my room. I have no friends here, but will consider you and the other servants my friends from now on. Tell me, do you know where the attackers took my father?”

“No, my lady, I don’t. The attack was horrible, and so many lost their lives. And the soldiers who didn’t die were taken by the attackers as prisoners, or ended up leaving on their own with their families.”

“Come, sit down and tell me everything.” Bonnibel took the girl’s hand and led her to the bed to sit.

“It was awful,” said Sibeal wringing her hands in front of her. “It all happened so fast and no one knows who they were.”

“What did the attackers want?” she asked. “It doesn’t seem as if they wanted to take the castle. I don’t understand it.”

“Neither do I, my lady. Most of the servants hid in the tunnels to keep from being killed as the attackers searched every room of the castle. I was so frightened. I thought I was going to die.”

“You’re safe now, and I’ll do everything I can to see to your safety.” Bonnibel rubbed her hand over the girl’s in a motherly gesture.

There was a knock at the door, and Sibeal’s head snapped up.

“My lady, Lord Stefan requests your presence in the great hall,” came Trumble’s muffled voice from the other side of the thick, wooden door.

“I don’t want to join him,” she called out. To her surprise, another voice came from the other side of the door as well.

“Step aside, Squire, I’ll handle this myself.”

Sibeal jumped up in fright. “Oh, my lady, please don’t let him see me here. I might be punished since his command was that the servants stay hidden.”

“Go! Back into the tunnels, quickly.” Bonnibel gently pushed her in the direction of the fireplace. The stone just finished sliding back into place when the door to the room banged open. Sir Stefan stood there with his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face.

“What did you do with my mirror?” he growled. His face almost seemed to be contorting, although it was hard to tell since the stitches in his face made him look frightening to begin with.

“
Your
mirror?” She matched his stare and bravely didn’t look away.

“I had a hand mirror when I entered the room and when I left, I no longer had it.”

“It seems we are both missing something that is important to us then. You see, I had a book when you last entered this room, and when you left – I no longer had it. So I guess we’re both at a disadvantage.”

“Give it to me!” He stepped forward and reached for her, but she stepped out of his way. His eyes fastened to the stabbed and torn pallet of the bed. “You were trying to kill someone, who was it?”

“It wasn’t you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“A frail thing like you is no worry to me. Now tell me – was someone in your chamber?” He looked around suspiciously, and before he started exploring and found Sibeal cowering in the tunnels, she figured she’d tell him the truth.

“It was Hecuba. She was here and took
her
mirror and now she is gone.”

“You know about her?” He seemed surprised.

“I know of her only from hearing you mention her.”

“What did she say? What did she tell you?” He seemed to be getting worked up again, and she tired of his mood swings. She slowly walked toward the window, then turned back to him and nodded her head.

“I’ll tell you what she said if you return my book.”

“Nay. You will tell me what she said, and I will keep the book.”

“Then forget it.” She turned back toward the window, and was startled at the feel of his hand upon her arm. She looked from the side of her eyes as he loomed over her from behind, and wondered what he planned to do.

“Squire, leave us,” he spat, and she heard the footsteps of Trumble hurrying out of the room and closing the door behind him.

“Now,” he said in a low voice. “Tell me everything Hecuba said.”

She turned her head away from him and closed her eyes, feeling the heat of his breath on her neck. His hold was surprisingly gentle instead of the harsh grip she’d expected. With his image blocked from her mind, his deep voice and gentle hold was oddly alluring.

“She – she said you were turning into a beast and that I could not change you.”

“God’s eyes,” he spat and let go of her arm. When she looked back over her shoulder, she saw his palm covering his face. Then she saw him wince in pain, and when he removed his hand from his face his eyes were closed and he didn’t look half as threatening. “Did she . . . say anything else?”

“No. Not really. Now, can I have my book back?”

She almost thought for a moment he was going to consider it. That is, until his hand ran over his head next, and his fingers gripped at the tufts of hair.

“Nay, you cannot!” he spat and headed for the door. “You will go hungry tonight to pay for what you did, and maybe tomorrow and the next day as well.” He stormed out of the room and closed the door and she heard the sound of the key turning in the lock – making her a prisoner again in the place she had once called home.

Stefan laid his forehead against the door, not caring that he was putting pressure on his stitches and it hurt like hell. What was happening to him? Why was this anger surfacing in him, and was he really turning into a beast, just like the witch had predicted?

Damn, he just needed to think, but didn’t want to go out into the courtyard, or for that matter leave the castle either. He was defenseless at the moment until his brother, MacKay, would return with mercenaries. He now regretted sending his other brothers, their armies, and his father away.

He decided to go up to the battlements and hopefully clear the confusion from his head. Because he seemed as if he were really turning into a beast, and he would take his own life rather than live trapped inside the body of a beast forever.