And the itch returned.
“The benefit of wealth,” I went on, “is that you can purchase learning, so in the end, I suppose true wealth is really wealth.”
“I can’t,” he said softly, and his voice held that same tone he’d used at the gate. Broken. Cracked in a way that cracked my heart in return. It was worse than silence.
“Of course you can,” I said brusquely. “The wealth in this castle could purchase anything in the world.”
Even Father’s fortune, laughable compared to a single rug in the beast’s castle, had managed to purchase an education for all his children. Though far from grand, my education was extensive. Father ensured we were taught history, reading, and writing. Other instruction varied from child to child. For me, I had added music. And when it came to reading, I had far surpassed all my siblings; Astra and Rob had little taste for it, and Callista only enjoyed small doses of mythology or religious study.
“Are you angry to be here?” the beast asked.
“If a sow knew it was bound for slaughter, would it be angry?” I asked. “Who can say? If it volunteered for the act, we can only assume a resigned anger at worst.”
The silence stretched so long, I was sure he’d left.
Then he said, “You’re angry at something.”
I stiffened, a fly pinned to the wall by its wings. And for the first time, I realized the fire inside was at least half ice, burning in a worse way until every part of me felt unnatural, inside and out.
“No harm will come to you here,” the beast said. “The castle and grounds are yours.”
No harm.
“I came for a punishment.” My knuckles whitened. “I came to pay a debt.”
“The loss of a daughter seems punishment enough. I am satisfied that you stay.”
Father had been so certain. He’d told Rob: “He had fangs enough to tear a man’s head off. I’m done for, son. I’m only grateful he granted me enough mercy to come home one last time.”
“Don’t return,” Rob had begged.
But Father insisted he had no choice, that an enchantment would surely drag him back one way or another. He’d charged Rob with the care of the family, done everything short of lift the shovel for his own grave. Callista had wept nearly as hard as Astra. And I had ...
“If you are satisfied so easily”—my voice held more snarl than his—“why demand punishment at all?”
The beast paused, then, “A prince must govern. Theft, however small, is theft.”
I knew nothing of what he looked like, but he called himself a prince and spoke like a peasant.
“What are you prince of?”
Another of those absurd, stretching silences. He truly was a beast if it took such effort to gather his senses enough to hold simple conversation, especially when the response he finally settled on was a mere three words: “Only a castle.”
This was not the bargain. This was not the fate.
But if I left now, Father would marry me off to Stephan, an attempt to ensure my safety that would instead ensure its removal forever. That beast had already been tested. At least the one standing at my back was still a mystery, even if I had rushed stupidly toward both.
“One stolen flower and you’ve sentenced yourself to my company for life.” I draped my voice with amusement, better than any glittering gown. “It’s a poor deal for you, I’m afraid.”
“You do somewhat ... confound me.”
The honest admission startled me into a smile, then a laugh.
“You’re not the first,” I said quietly. Without thinking, I turned.
And he vanished.
Before the loss of his fortune, whatever I asked Father for, be it material or educational, he granted me. He was as indulgent with all his children as he could be, though he admitted that my requests were generally the most unexpected.
