 
Beast

Maya Emmerich
BEAST

Maya Emmerich

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © by Natalie Lakosil

Cover design by Natalie Lakosil

Cover image Yair Haklai; licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means is forbidden without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.
Table of Contents

The Beginning

They Meet

They Fall in Love

They Are Torn Apart

They Reunite
Preface

She laughed as she ran into the courtyard. Behind her, three boys ran, chasing her with smiles and fake chants. "Hurry up, boys!" she called mockingly. "Wouldn't want the beastie to get you!" She laughed again. The sound carried back to the boys, light and care-free.

"What beast!" called one of the boys. His brown eyes arrogantly surveyed the weed-filled cobblestones. He tossed back his golden locks. "Everyone knows that's just a myth!"

The other two boys laughed along with him.

Leona stuck her tongue out at them, and then shrieked as they picked up mud and started to hurl it at her. Her breath came rapidly as she ducked behind a large stone wall, giggling, her hand over her mouth. Her light pink summer dress was torn and mud-splattered, her shoes abandoned somewhere along the path to the old palace.

At only eight, she was the youngest of the group. Destin was the oldest at twelve, the other two boys, Gerry and Lewis, both ten and twins. They were an unusual group; her mother was aghast at the idea that she ran around the countryside like a wild animal with the boys. Usually, around others, the boys liked to ignore her; she would whine and pout until they paid her attention. Alone, however, they were the best of friends.

Leona crouched down and peeked out behind the corner of the wall. Destin was out of breath, scanning the courtyard for her. "I saw you!" he called. "I saw you duck behind that wall Leona!"

She gasped and stuck her head out, pouting. "No fair," she whined. Then her eyes lit up. "But you still have to catch me!"

Yelling after her, the boys began at a wild sprint to catch her. Her yellow hair billowed behind her as she ran, laughing, picking up her skirt so as not to trip.

"You'll never get me! You'll never get me!" she called, taunting them. She rounded a corner in the enormous yard, turning down a dark corridor. She had no idea where she was; they rarely came to the palace. It had started out as a dare; Destin had bet that no one would ever go, and of course, they couldn't just ignore him. They'd crept up along the side of the palace, only to find that it wasn't filled with spiders and bats and wolves. Instead, they'd crept right into the middle of a bright, sunny courtyard- abandoned, yet full of wonderful crevices to hide.

"Leona!" she heard Lewis cry. "You don't know where you're going!"

Leona wasn't about to fall for that. Giggling, she dashed farther down the corridor, backing into a large nook in the wall. She checked behind her shoulder. She could just barely hear their footsteps as they ran. Taking a deep breath, she settled her back into the corner, and turned to face forward. She muttered to herself, "They-"

Then her whole body went still. Her eyes widened.

"Oh no," she whispered. She tried pressing farther into the wall. "NO," she said, still whispering, yet very, very frightened. Her little body started to tremble.

"Leona!"

Her head whipped around. "No!" she screamed. "Don't-"

"What the-"

"Sweet Jesus!" They skidded to a halt, five feet from her.

"Leona," Destin said. He didn't take his eyes from the beast. "Come out of there slowly."

Leona turned her head back around to look. She gulped. The thing was staring at her, its small, black eyes mirroring her reflection. Its sharp teeth hung down over its furry mouth, starkly white and sharp. It was as big as a man, with huge, brown feet and hands. Its entire body was covered in foot-long fur, hunched a little at the shoulders because it had no neck. It went straight from the bulky chest to the bulbous head, all but its eyes and wet black nose covered in thick fur. And...it was behind bars.

"He can't get me, can he?" she whispered. She was afraid to tear her eyes away, afraid to move. The beast hadn't moved either.

"I don't think so," Destin said, and she heard him take a step forward.

"Look at it!" she heard Gerry whisper in awe.

"So it's real!" Lewis cried, and then out of the corner of her eye, she saw them move closer.

"Who do you think owns it?" Destin asked, as he moved just in front of her, two feet from the iron bars.

A chilly wind echoed down the corridor, down her spine.

Owns it?

Her eyes widened a fraction. "Destin..." she whispered. Who'd said that?

Destin glanced back at her. "What? Like it's gonna do anything. Look at it!" He laughed.

Gerry and Lewis, two steps behind Destin, laughed weakly with him. "It probably doesn't even know where it is it's so stupid," Gerry said, and flushed with pride when the others laughed with him.

Leona shook her head. "Are you all mad? Get away from it!" She was still starkly terrified. Hadn't they heard the voice?

Destin looked back at her and scoffed. "Don't be daft, Leona! It's stuck behind there!"

That's what you think.

Her mouth dropped open. She felt her heartbeat accelerate. "Destin," she said, warning strong in her voice. "I don't think you should make fun of it."

Lewis raised his eyebrows at her. "Why not? It's just a dumb-"

"Stop it!" she shrieked. Her terrified, confused eyes shot back to the beast.

Who is this?

She gasped. "No! Stop!" her eyes watered.

Destin walked towards her. "Leona, it's all right, don't-"

"No!" she screamed. She got out of the corner, and backed down the corridor.

That's right, pretty one, run...

Leona screamed, and, filled with stark terror, turned and ran blindly home.

### Chapter 1

### Fifteen years later

"Prince has raised the tax," Destin grumbled.

Leona raised her head. "Raised it?" she asked incredulously. "Not again!"

Destin nodded dismally. "Yes, again. Don't know what the hell for. Little staff, no wars, and you've seen the palace; it's a mess!"

Leona sighed. She stopped scrubbing for a moment, and stared at the suds foaming around her wrists. "What does it mean, Destin?" she asked numbly. She was still staring into the soapy water. She felt his fingers lift her chin to look into his eyes.

"You know what it means," he said.

Her eyes started to water. "Bust Destin you can't," she pleaded. "I need the money!"

Destin frowned. "I know you do. So do I."

She sniffed, and wiped at a tear with her wet hand. She looked around the pub with blurry eyes. She'd been working as a barmaid at Destin's family inn for years now. The oak walls, the stained tables, the dusty fireplace were all such friends to her. When she was little, she remembered coming in and sitting for lunch; when she got older, she would stay for dinner. The inn was like a second home to her. She'd never known anywhere else.

She laughed a little. "Mother will be so pleased," she said bitterly.

Destin winced. Leona's mother was the poorest, most morally righteous woman in town. Leona had never been able to miss church, just as she'd never been able to miss a lecture after she came back from Sunday brunch at the inn. Her mother considered such a place a whore's heaven and a man's quick road to hell. Leona couldn't blame her; once, her mother's family had been rich. They'd sat with the King and Queen for Sunday brunch, back then; of course, that was before her grandfather had died. After that, Leona's mother had been left to try and handle the finances by herself. That was when she had married Leona's father, a man who had died in a gunfight two years after the marriage.

Where had all the money gone? According to Leona's mother, nowhere. According to the account books Leona tended, to the men her father had gambled with.

Destin sighed and settled back in his chair. His account books were spread before him, glasses on. He was looking intently at Leona. "I can't afford to keep you on. Not with the way the taxes have been raised now. Leona...you know there are options."

Leona laughed harshly and took her hands out of the water, wiping them on her apron. "Destin, I would. But mother-"

He rose abruptly. "Is on her deathbed! What would you care of her convictions if she wouldn't even be around to-"

"Oh, she'd be around. She'd haunt me, I know it." She sat down at the kitchen table across from Destin.

He reached across and took her hand. "Marry me, Leona. Please. I could take care of you; even your mother has to see that!"

Leona shook her head. "I can't," she whispered. She laughed a little. "She sees nothing but the white horse the Prince is supposed to ride when he comes to ask for my hand."

Destin scowled. "That damn woman."

Leona looked away. She couldn't damn her mother. Not when she knew that her mother was just an excuse. If Leona really wanted to marry Destin, she could. Her mother couldn't walk, could barely breathe. Her mother was not the large obstacle Leona made her out to be. The truth was, Leona wanted a prince. Well, perhaps not the Prince, but a man who would be her prince. She wanted to fall in love. Her mother's silly stories had all but poisoned her mind; all the years of lectures on how she was so beautiful, how she came from such good lineage, how she deserved better had just about made her believe so.

Just about.

Leona wasn't stupid; she looked no better than the barmaid she was. Her hair, kept messy under the cap she wore, the hair her mother claimed was as fine as corn silk, was no more than yellow straw. Her eyes weren't a mysterious blue or green; they were brown, like dirt. Her figure she supposed was all right, although no man of reputable birth would ever possibly want to marry her because of it. In her short dress, dirty black boots, and too-tight bodice she looked like the whore her mother had called her when she had admitted to working at Destin's inn.

"Please," she looked back at Destin, "couldn't you keep me? Just for a little while, until I find a new job?"

Destin shook his head. He tilted the glasses back on his nose and glanced at the books. He sighed and then looked up. "No. The truth is, I can't keep doing this. I'm tempted to turn you out cold until you come to your senses and marry me."

Leona widened her eyes. "What?"

He scowled. "Leona, I should have let you go months ago. I was just...waiting for you to make up your bloody mind! I'll lay it out now, though; I just can't take it! It's either her, or me." He shrugged.

Leona couldn't believe her ears. "Destin you can't- you can't possibly-"

"Oh yes, Leona, I can."

Leona stared at him, at his hard, unwilling eyes. Then she stood angrily. "I've known you since I was yet three years old, Destin! How you can- how you could be so- so coldhearted..." she let her words falter in her anger. She untied her apron and laid it on the table, letting it serve as her answer. She walked out of the kitchen, grabbing her shawl at the door, and out of the inn.

She stood in the snow for a moment, staring down at the sludge beneath her feet. She had very little saved. She could last perhaps three days on what she had, and she doubted she would find anyone else willing to take her in, even for charity's sake. She screamed and kicked the sludge. She would not be bullied into this. Desperation was not what would force her to finally wed.

She sniffed, feeling the bitter cold start to bite her cheeks. She started walking home, shivering, trying her best to use her threadbare shawl to her advantage.

Her small cottage was at the end of town, far beyond the flattened streets and light posts, deep into the heavily forested mountain. She blew out her breath as she started to climb, thankful that the walk would warm her. She trudged up slowly, mirroring her earlier tracks; she was the only one who ever went this way. She kept her head down, trying to ignore the icy wind that sneaked under her shawl and up through her dress. Her boots were wet, making her toes numb. She felt her nose turn raw. She lifted one foot after the other, at first not noticing that she was no longer stepping in unmarked snow.

Feeling a chill that had naught to do with the cold run down her spine, she finally spied the other trail, two marks made by wagon wheels, running straight up along the faint footprints she had left earlier.

She gulped, fear entering her mind, and looked up. She started running, not bothering to worry that she could barely feel her body move as she did so. She saw the carriage parked in front of her cottage and stopped dead. Outlined in gold on the polished black of the carriage was the emblem of a phoenix carrying a holly leaf.

"No," she whispered. They couldn't! How could they- not so soon! Steeling herself, she walked up the steps and through the door.

Two men looked up as she entered. She stared at them for a moment, and then shut the door. She hung her shawl on a peg, not wanting to turn around and face them.

"Miss Winters?"

Leona took a breath, and turned. Her mother was seated in her usual chair close to the fire, blanket wrapped firmly about her, white cap drowning her aging face. The two men were gathered around her, both wearing the same uniform of polished black boots, tucked-in white inexpressibles, and blue overcoats with gold buttons. Each still wore their gloves, as if afraid to touch anything in the small cottage.

"Good evening, gentlemen," she said smoothly, and walked to stand in front of them. She checked again to make sure her mother was all right, then faced the two men. "I-" she cleared her throat. "I just recently learned of the tax raise."

One of the men, named Mr. Bradley, she knew, raised an eyebrow briefly. His associate, Mr. Green, rarely ever spoke. He could barely ever look at her. "Yes, it was posted this afternoon. We've come to collect the five owed, plus the additional six added earlier."

Leona felt her mind start to spin a little. She looked away briefly, and then laughed a little when she looked back. "Eleven," she said faintly. "I...I haven't got the money."

Her mother coughed, and Leona rushed to the pitcher by her side to pour her water.

"As you can see, my mother is sick, and I've just...well, I haven't at the moment got employment so-"

"We can't let this go again, Miss Winters. This is the third time we have delayed in collecting the tax. You know what the penalty is for not paying."

Leona dropped the pitcher with a thud, her mind going blank. "No," she whispered, her eyes wide, begging. Her hand gripped the back of her mother's chair for dear life. "You can't," she pleaded. "My mother- who will-"

"I'm sorry Miss Winters, that's none of our-"

"Damned if it isn't!" She cried, her body shaking.

The men rose. "You'll be coming with us," Mr. Bradley said deadly.

Leona shook her head violently. "No- you don't understand- I-"

"Either you come quietly or we take your mother," Mr. Bradley threatened.

Leona looked at her mother. Mrs. Winters probably had very little idea of what was going on. She sat still in her chair, staring into the fire, hands clasped tightly together. Leona ignored the men and knelt by her chair. She took her mother's hands, and brought them to her lips. They were so cold. There was no way in hell her mother could survive in the Palace jail. The thought of her mother lying, cold, coughing...

"Mama," she whispered. Her mother looked at her. Leona felt a hard ache in her chest. "Mama, I'm going to have to go away for a little while. You won't see me for...a few days." Her mother just stared at her. "I'll be back," she whispered. "But...you're going to have to- to pour your own water and..." She looked at the men. "Please. Let me at least get soup going to last her for...a few days."

Mr. Bradley hesitated. Then Mr. Green spoke. "We are in no hurry."

She felt a surge of warmth and gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered.

One hour later she walked out the front door mutely, wrapping her shawl around her against not only the cold of the night but the cold of the men. She got into their icy carriage, sitting in the far corner, staring out the window as the cottage rocked slowly away from her home.

The ride wasn't long. They entered the large, iron Palace gates in under a half hour. Her breath came rapidly as the door was abruptly opened, her arm grabbed, her body forced out of the carriage by large, rough hands. She stood in the courtyard, shivering, eyes wide with fear. She had only heard stories of what they did to people in the dungeons; she'd never imagined that she would be one of them.

The courtyard was still largely abandoned; only recently, as the taxes had gotten higher and higher, had the dungeons started to be in use again. Mr. Green and Mr. Bradley were still in the carriage; Mr. Green glanced at her briefly before the door was slammed in her face. The carriage rolled away, and with it, the only kindness in the courtyard.

Shaking, she turned to face the large man that stood behind her. He smiled roughly.

"Haven' had a woman in residence in a long, long time."

Her spine chilled. "Please," she whispered. "How- how long do you think-"

He laughed. Her words were drowned by his loud, rough laughter. He pulled out a set of chains, and her words died as he clinked them around her wrists. Her body froze, still shaking with cold, her toes numb, her nose red, cap askew. She stared at the metal. She couldn't cry. She was in shock. She hadn't really realized until those heavy links connected her to the man standing in front of her how much trouble she was in.

Her knees felt weak, and her stomach grumbled.

The man heard, and cocked an eyebrow. "Hungry, now are you?" he laughed again, only this time, he picked up a loose end of her chain, and started leading her forward.

Her feet stumbled a moment, and then she followed. She might have been too young to remember where she was, but she knew exactly where she was going. Her heartbeat quickened when she saw the corridor.

"No," she whispered. She tried to pull on her chains. "No!"

The man turned around, no humor in his eyes. He was furious. She cowered as he stalked up to her, and, with no concern for her whatsoever, yanked her over his shoulder. He walked down to the single cell, opened it, and tossed her to the ground. He grunted as she scrambled quickly to a corner, huddled, knees drawn to her chest.

She couldn't see anything. It was almost pitch black in the cell, freezing, the floor covered in dirt and a few strands of hay. Her breathing was noisy, her eyes wide, as she tried desperately to adjust to the darkness. The man walked away, and she felt terror fill her as she realized that she was alone with the darkness, and...it. She tried to listen for movement, yet she heard none.

She covered her mouth with her hand to still her breathing. She looked around. And she realized that she was alone.

Gasping, relief flooding through her, she pulled her knees closer and felt tears rise. She was alone. She was hungry. She was cold. And her mother would die if she were left in the cell any longer.

Blinking, cheeks stinging with the warmth her tears brought, she lowered her face to her knees, and gave in to exhaustion.

#  Chapter 2

She heard the slow shuffle about an hour later, but she barely registered it in her mind. She couldn't move. She could barely feel her body. She was still sniffing, her tears slightly subsided. She couldn't help but drown in them. This had to be the absolute worst day of her life. She was shaking, her lips numb; had someone killed her right then she probably wouldn't have noticed. Somehow, though, a voice broke through her sluggish thoughts.

That stupid bloke, she looks half-frozen.

She raised her head a bit, blinking. She couldn't see a thing.

Probably out of her mind with fright, too.

Her lips parted. Her rusty voice called out, shakily, "H-hello? Who's there?" She tried looking around, but could make out nothing. Then she heard the bars slide open, and her head snapped in that direction. Stiffly, she tried rising, and called out in pain. Her muscles really had frozen.

Dear God, how long was she there? She heard the voice say urgently.

No one answered.

"Please," she whispered. She could barely hear her voice. She made it to her knees, and crawled forward a bit. The world was spinning. "I must-" she cleared her throat. Her arms were shaking with the effort to keep her up. "I must-" she gasped, and fell. She heard someone rush forward, and then she felt warm, warm fur wrapped around her body. Sighing in pleasure, she snuggled against it, feeling herself lifted into someone's arms. She closed her eyes. "My mother," she whispered. She tried to think of what it was she needed to say, but her mind seemed to have frozen along with her muscles.

Poor girl. She's delirious.

She frowned, feeling the world slipping away. "No," she whispered. "I'm not...delirious..." and that was when the world finally faded away.

She woke to the smell of fresh roses. She couldn't imagine where they could be coming from; she had no idea where she could...

Her eyes opened, and she gasped. She was under thick bearskin covers, in a bed larger than her entire cottage, or so it seemed. The mattress was made of pure goose feather; it had to be. She was melting into it like a delicious dream. Rich red curtains were hung over every wall, except the one that was taken up by a fireplace larger than two of her laid out and a good head taller than her in height. A roaring fire heated the room, and she felt, for the first time in years it seemed, wonderfully warm.

She couldn't see much of the room, since it was cloaked in shadow. She imagined it was immense, though she couldn't be sure. She was still clad in everything but her boots and shawl; she quickly tossed back the covers. She felt so dirty just then, lying in that that glorious bed, her clothes splattered with mud and tears. Yet she was reluctant to leave its warmth. She was about to settle back in when a voice emerged from the shadows beside the fireplace.

Can you hear me?

Startled, she froze, a bit embarrassed. "I- yes."

The voice did not speak for a long, long time. She sat in the silence, waiting, feeling uncomfortable with nothing but the popping of logs for company. Especially when she couldn't see who was speaking to her.

Then, a bit startled, he responded, Impossible.

She raised her eyebrows. "That I can hear you?"

Again, shocked, he said, Yes.

She frowned. "Why?"

He didn't answer her question. Instead he asked, Who are you?

A bit...cautious, she answered, "Leona Winters."

There was a grunt, and then, No. What are you?

Leona crossed her legs under her. "I- I didn't think I was that filthy," she said, trying for humor. No one laughed. She took a breath. "I'm a woman. A...barmaid." The shadows moved. She narrowed her eyes. "Why don't you let me see you?"

It is of no importance. You...cannot be. This is impossible.

Leona felt insulted. "Why? Never known a barmaid with the ability to make intelligent conversation? I'm sorry if I was a bit...dizzy when we met, but that was of no fault of mine. Had you realized sooner that I was freezing to death I might have been able to say more," she ended heatedly. She was not in the mood to be polite to this man, whoever he was. She pursed her lips. "Just what do you plan to do with me, anyway?" She glared into the shadows.

There was a startled silence, and then, I was not aware of your presence until I found you. What would you have me do to you?

Leona opened and closed her mouth, confused. "I...would have you release me," she said truthfully.

Release you? You are...a prisoner. The last was said a bit flatly.

Leona felt like she had to explain for some reason. "No- I mean, yes but..." she blushed. "I couldn't pay my taxes," she admitted.

Taxes? For that he threw you in... There was a low growl.

Leona felt a shiver. There was a definite threat behind it.

You will be released.

Leona felt such gratitude, her eyes watered. She rose from the bed. "Oh, thank you," she whispered. "You have no idea- they took me from my mother, and she's sick and..." she laughed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...thank you."

He didn't respond at first. Then he said, You are welcome. She heard a door handle move, and she knew he was about to leave.

"Wait!" she called. "Please- what- who are you?"

The fire flickered as the door opened. I am...no one. The door shut.

Leona fell back on the bed, confused, her mouth slightly parted. Who had that been? Someone of great importance, obviously, if he had the power to release her. Still...how unusual that he would not reveal his face or name.

Leona had only a few moments to ponder, for as soon as he left the door opened again, this time admitting a woman. She walked towards Leona, smiling. She was a short, stout old lady, her gray hair covered in a cap, obviously a maid judging from her blue and white striped dress with apron over it. "Hello dear," she sighed. "I'm so sorry things didn't work out, yet..." she shrugged.

Leona frowned. "I...I'm sorry?"

The lady sighed, and waved her hand. "I know, a bit unnerving, isn't he?" She patted Leona's hand.

Leona stared at her. "I...he seemed perfectly normal to me."

The woman stopped smiling instantly. "Now my dear, it's over; no need for pretenses now." A look of warning entered her eye, yet Leona couldn't understand whatever for.

"He was a bit unusual," she tried.

The woman clucked her tongue, and surveyed her. "My, with such good acting I suppose...but, if he knew it was not you, he knew. You understand?"

Leona was beyond trying to understand what she was talking about. She just nodded. She needed to leave; she didn't really mind if it wasn't her, whatever that meant.

Leona stood and collected her boots, putting them on. She was a bit reluctant to leave the room, but she had to. Her mother was waiting.

The woman handed her her shawl, and led her out the door. Leona stopped dead. "I'm in the Palace," she said, staring around her in awe.

The woman glanced back, and then continued walking. "Come along," she sighed.

Leona could barely keep up. She stared at everything as she passed; it was more magnificent than she could ever imagine. The floors were carpeted with rich, regal weaves, the walls covered in tapestry to keep out the winter cold. Beautiful chandeliers lit the halls, dimly lighting the family portraits and armor she passed. All the doors she passed were closed, but even they were splendid, with their crystal door handles and stained oak.

The woman led the way down several corridors, before stepping out into a large, main hall. A wide staircase led down, splitting in two at the bottom, covered in a red carpet so dark it looked like wine. Leona had to stop for a moment to gape. The ceiling was glass in the very center, covered in snow. The rest was painted, an incredible, almost alive look at the night sky.

Each star was there, accounting for each constellation that artist had been able to see the night he had started, each cloud so soft Leona could almost jump up and touch them. Her eyes traveled around the scene, wandering down the carved wood on the walls, the high windows covered with more wine-colored velvet, to the marble floor. The enormous fireplace in the room was lit; in front of it were two large armchairs, covered in dust cloths.

And that was where Leona's eyes stayed.

For there, leaning in front of its fiery warmth, was the beast.

Her small gasp echoed around the room, making it turn. Leona's eyes widened. She felt like she was eight years old again, staring at this enormous creature, her body reflected in its soulless eyes. She felt locked in place, held captive by it, only...why did she...not feel so threatened?

This creature, like her, had grown over the fifteen years that had passed. No longer was it as tall as man; it was two times taller. Its mangy hair still roamed all over, yet its sharp teeth now passed its chin. With one swipe its paws alone would kill her, yet she stood there, captivated, not be fear, but...surprise.

"It's you," she finally said.

Her words echoed around the room, reaching it, reverberating around it. The beast growled, and Leona heard a small shriek.

"I'm so sorry m'Lord, I had assumed that since you'd already- I'll just take her out the-" The maid continued to talk as suddenly a voice reached her ears. A very familiar voice.

I had not wanted you here.

And then it hit her. She felt the air leave her lungs; she stumbled down a few steps. She wasn't hearing a man speak. No matter where she was, the voice would always sound the same, since she heard it...inside of her. Her mouth dropped open.

"That's impossible," she whispered.

Neither she nor the beast moved. They were staring at each other, unaware of the maid as she rambled on her apologies. There was no possible way the voice could be coming from it. Yet...all those years ago...no one else had been around.

"Unnerving," she whispered. Leona looked at the maid. The poor woman was scowling.

"That'll do, miss," she said sharply. "You've done quite enough for today; no need to stare. Come." She grabbed Leona's arm, and started propelling her back the way they had come.

Leona took a step forward; the beast did the same.

Wait.

She stopped. The maid continued to pull on her arm. Leona looked at her. "He asked me to wait," she said.

The maid stopped. She blinked. "What?"

Mrs. Kingsley cannot hear me.

Leona looked at the beast. "She can't?" In this room, there was no need to shout. Even though she was separated from the beast by at least two hundred feet, her voice reached him as clear as if she were not two feet away. Leona looked back at the maid. "You can't hear him, Mrs. Kingsley?"

The maid stopped, her jaw dropping. She looked at the beast, and then Leona. "I- I didn't show you in and...I never told you my name," she whispered. Then her eyes widened, and she looked at the beast. "I thought you were telling me to show her out!" she cried.

"He released me," Leona said.

Mrs. Kingsley's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "Released you! Good Lord, you're-"

I did release you, Leona. You are free to go. His words cut through the rest of Mrs. Kingsley's.

Leona turned to him. She just couldn't quite picture a voice emerging from that monstrous head. He looked more like he wanted to eat her. It wasn't the least bit reassuring that the voice sounded...human.

"Who are you?" she asked softly. He had saved her. No matter how horrible he looked, he was allowing her her freedom. She walked to the bottom of the steps, staring into his eyes. It was almost impossible to look away. "Why wouldn't you tell me?" she asked.

His voice sounded amused when he spoke. I most certainly did not expect you to come closer. I thought you might be a bit...frightened.

Leona could not deny it. "I am terrified," she whispered.

I see. He paused. Sit with me?

Her eyes widened, taking in his paw as it swept back to the fire. Against her will, she stepped back.

Ah. I do see.

Leona licked her dry lips. "I- I wanted to thank you. For letting me go." Then she frowned. She glanced back to where Mrs. Kingsley was still standing, staring at the two of them. She thought of her mother, and took a deep breath. She couldn't survive for long, even if she did get home soon. There would be no food. Yet... Leona looked at the beast. "Am I in the position to...ask for a favor?" she asked quietly. She felt her cheeks heat with humiliation.

I suppose that would depend on the favor.

Leona looked down. Her hands played with the fabric of her skirt, twisting, nervous. "I don't have any money," she said quietly. "I can't pay my taxes. My mother is sick. I need a way to support her, and...I noticed on my way down that...the Palace could use a good housecleaner." She felt her blush heat up and down to her toes. "I mean I- the dust...I know you've most likely a staff but with so much space, I thought..." She cleared her throat. "I'd be willing to clean if...if perhaps you could ask to just- even just feeding us, that would be all right." She held her breath, waiting.

Look at me.

Leona took a deep breath, and looked up. She leveled her head, straightened her spine. Her hands stopped fussing. "I understand if you can't," she said. "I just thought that perhaps since you could release me, you could..." she bit her lip.

You would be willing to...stay here?

She frowned. "Not if- my mother needs-"

If you could bring her here.

Leona thought of the room she had just come from, and almost laughed with joy at the idea of her mother enjoying the luxuries she claimed she should have. "Yes, I would."

The beast turned away from her. He faced the fire, staring into it. Then he said, I will send for her. You shall stay.

Leona raised her trembling hands to her lips, smiling. "Thank you," she cried. "Oh, for the thousandth time, thank you."

### Chapter 3

Her mother was sent for that very night. She was placed in small room with a large bed and even larger fireplace, perfect for keeping her warm. A door led to a closet room just off of her mother's, where Leona set up a cot and table. Mrs. Kingsley came in after a short while, to show Leona what she was to do.

"I've just learned of your arrangement," she said cheerfully. "I think it's wonderful, you deciding to stay. Come, this way; I'll get you started with a rag and duster."

Leona followed her down to the basement of the castle, where the kitchen and cellar lay. When they entered the kitchen, Leona frowned. "Ah- Mrs. Kingsley," she asked.

The woman turned, raising her eyebrows.

"Where is the rest of the staff?"

Mrs. Kingsley laughed. "Why, there is no other staff! Other than myself, you, and...oh, lets see, I suppose Jeffrey, there isn't anyone."

Leona gaped at her a moment. She looked around the large kitchen, the fireplace big enough to roast several pigs, three ovens against the wall, the cutting table big enough for six to comfortably prepare a meal... "Do you mean to tell me- how- how does the Prince live? Has he no.... Where does the tax money go?" she demanded.

A dark shadow crossed Mrs. Kingsley's face. "The Prince himself lives a very secluded life," she said soberly. She sighed. "He never leaves the castle. We've had dozens of young ladies come forth to...well. Some reside here still. He never even visits them, really. The poor man."

Leona leaned against a chair pulled up to one of the smaller eating tables in the room. She leaned forward a bit, and spoke low. "Is that why he relies on...the beast? To make decisions? Scare people away?"

Mrs. Kingsley scowled, and snapped, "The beast, as you would call him, makes every decision in this palace! You would do well to learn your place!"

Leona blinked. "I- oh."

Mrs. Kingsley huffed over to the wash table and pulled out a bucket filled with rags and soapy water. "Here," she said, shoving it at Leona. "You'd best start, if you're to keep your stay."

Leona took the bucket from her, about to thank her, but Mrs. Kingsley had no sooner handed it to her than she was stalking away. Leona stood in the kitchen alone, utterly at a loss, staring after her. "I don't know what she's so touchy about," she muttered.

She sighed and walked out, heading for the front hall, trying to remember which way it was. If she could find the hall, she could make her way just about anywhere, since the design of the palace all centered to end in the hall. If she could find it.

Leona had taken several flights of stairs up, and still she hadn't found it. She was certain she had taken one too many steps up; perhaps if she went back down... Turning, Leona walked through the double-doors she was certain she had just come out of, and ended up not in front of a staircase but a wide, glass room. She skidded to a halt, mouth a-gape, utterly impressed.

The room looked to have once been a conservatory, thus the glass exterior and wilting flowers here and there. Now, however, it was...a laboratory. Two long tables ran the length of the room, covered in glass tubes, trays, contraptions that sizzled and popped, colored liquid and various jars of herbs and poisons. Bookcases filled over the brim with books lined the only solid wall, the one from which she had come. All over there were papers; on the floor, the tables, the bookcases, even crumpled and stashed in flowerpots. A small writing desk occupied the end of the room. Sunlight filtered onto it, revealing a spilt inkpot staining another stack of half-used papers. One quill pen lay on the floor; another, at closer glance, was angrily thrown into the wall by the bookcases.

Leona walked slowly around the room, staring into the jars, truly amazed. She didn't hear the door open behind her.

What are you doing here!

Leona gasped and spun around, heart fluttering. She knocked over a glass tube in her haste, and instantly regretted it as green liquid quickly spread to the floor. "Oh, no, I'm sorry!" she cried, quickly wiping it with a rag.

Why are you here? came the ominous voice.

Leona looked up and gasped again, abandoning her rag as she scooted away. The beast had come close, very close; he was towering above her. She stared up at him with terror-filled eyes. "I- I'm sorry I was just- I thought the doors led to the staircase-"

You didn't touch anything, did you?

Leona quickly shook her head, and gulped. "Well, no, e-except for that one tube..." she held her breath.

The beast looked around, growling low in his throat. You are not to come in here.

Leona nodded. "I understand." She waited for him to leave. When he did not, she slowly got to her feet, cautiously taking a step forward. She shouldn't have been bold enough to ask, but she did anyway. "Who...who does this place belong to?"

The beast looked at her, capturing her wide, curious eyes in his stare. It belongs to me.

Leona widened her eyes. "You? I..." she glanced at the tiny tubes. "You can handle these?" she motioned to the glass.

The beast grumbled. With difficulty, yes.

Leona looked away. "Oh." She lowered her eyes.

Why do you ask?

Leona looked up, surprised at the curiosity in his tone. "I suppose because..." she sighed, and then motioned to the papers on the floor. "It looks as if you're having difficulty."

The beast retreated from her, into the shadows of the room. And if I am?

Leona shrugged. "Why don't you get someone to help?"

With what? How could I trust someone to...to keep things right?

Leona's eyes widened. "A bit touchy, aren't we?" she scoffed. "My, for one such as you I'd think you wouldn't be so disgusted by the assistance of others." Cheeks heating, Leona stiffly walked to the door and opened it, when the beast suddenly growled loud and clapped the door shut with his paw. He leaned against it, blocking her exit, while Leona cowered away.

One...such as me?

Leona took a breath, trying not to panic at the malice in his eyes. "Yes," she breathed. "One who gives assistance at every opportunity."

The beast blinked. He had obviously not been expecting that answer, for immediately his weight left the door, lax. I do not understand. What assistance have I given?

Leona stared at him. "What- m'Lord! You saved my life, and that of my mother's!" She took a step forward in her gratitude. "You let me stay here. What more could you do?"

The beast seemed confused. I had not realized it meant...so much.

Leona shook her head sadly. "Of course it did." The beast had moved away from the door. Leona walked to it, this time making it into the hall before he stopped her.

Would you help me?

Leona turned back. "Help you? In...there?"

He was staring at her with his big, mournful eyes. Yes.

Leona put down her bucket and placed her hands on her hips. "You trust me?"

The beast did not move. All Leona heard was the earnest note in his voice as he said softly, Yes.

Leona looked at him a moment longer before replying, "What would you have me do?"

The beast stared at her, her white cap gleaming in his eyes. His chest rose and fell as he continued to stare, almost transfixed by her presence. Leona waited patiently. Then the beast turned, looking back at the room. His voice rumbled, Clean that mess you made. Then grab another tube and fill it with the green liquid in that jar over there. His paw motioned to the end of the long table on the left.

Leona picked up her bucket and walked to the pile of rags she had left on the floor, staring down at the mess. Then she turned abruptly to face the beast. "I can't help you here, if I'm still to clean-"

I will consider this you new duty.

Leona frowned. "I...cannot."

The beast's voice was curious when he asked, Cannot?

Leona took a deep breath, and then set her bucket on the ground. "You have shown me such kindness," she said softly. "I must repay you in some way. Helping here would be..." she smiled slightly, looking around. "Fascinating. But it is not enough to pay my keep." She turned sad eyes back on the beast.

His voice, when he spoke, was soft, soothing. Then you shall help me every other day. You were right, Leona. I do need you. Here. Please.

She widened her eyes. "Please? M'Lord, all you need do..." she let her words stop. All he need do was order her to help, and clean after hours, yet...she could not, somehow, see him ordering her to do...anything. Which was odd enough, considering he was now her lord. And she wanted to help him. She found herself wishing to explore the books and fill the tubes, yet...she held herself back. She took a deep breath. "I will help you here every other day."

The beast made a low growl. Good. Now. Get to it.

He was leaving to her to decide which task she would pursue that moment, she realized. He would let her choose. Leona turned pointedly around and sank to her knees, taking up a rag and beginning to scrub. She saw the beast's shadow move slowly towards the other end of the room, towards the desk. She did not glance up, even as she heard him rustling through papers. She could not help but satisfy her curiosity when she heard a chair scrape back. She looked up, and then widened her eyes, her mouth parting slightly.

"What are you doing?" she breathed.

The beast looked up. Oh, what a picture he presented! Leona felt stunned, unable to breathe, dying to cry out with laughter yet deathly afraid to offend him. The beast was perched in an armchair, paws open before him, a book propped between them. Spectacles rested on the bridge of his nose. His black eyes blinked at her. I am reading.

Leona's mouth dropped even farther down. She sputtered a moment before rocking back on her heels and blurting out, "What?"

Carefully, the beast let the book fall back on the desk. Have you never heard of such a pastime?

Leona raised her eyebrows. Then she let them drop. "I cannot read," she said softly. "I suppose...if humans still have not mastered it, why not..."

A beast? The bitterness in his voice was hard to mistake.

Leona took a breath, and then put her rag and bucket away. She stood, standing directly in front of the beast's desk, across the room. "How..." she cleared her throat. Her hands moved to toy with her apron.

How what? Spit it out, girl, I am not afraid.

Leona frowned. "You're so bitter," she whispered.

The beast growled, a warning sound that echoed around in his chest. This was not a subject he was willing to discuss.

Leona scowled, and then said angrily, "You said you trust me."

The beast waved his paw. What has trust to do with anything?

Leona put her hands on her hips. For the world of her she could not imagine why she was being so bold. She supposed it came from having worked as a barmaid all her life. One learned to be quite aggressive in such a place as her life had allotted her. "All right. We shall start with my trust. I shall tell you a secret, one no one else on this world has ever known. And you shall trust me with one of yours."

Why should any of this come to pass? Why should either of us become...friends?

Leona took a step closer. Without realizing it, she was starting to come very close to his desk. "Because that is what trust entitles. Because I owe you my life." She paused. There was one last reason she was hesitant to admit; yet it was there, surprising as it was. "Because I want it to."

The beast's dark eyes gleamed. The only one I needed to hear was the last, he said softly.

Leona took a deep breath. She looked out the window. "I know this won't concern you," she said softly. "You don't...gossip, I suppose you could say, so this...what I'm going to tell you is my secret, and it has value to me. Even if it holds none to you, I ask you respect that." She looked back at him.

Of course, Leona.

She smiled a little. She came towards the beast, taking a few last steps, and suddenly she was right before him, so close that she could see each hair as it expanded with his breath. "When I was little," she started. She sighed. "Well, this was back when my father still lived. We weren't too bad off then. I remember, it was a cold night, and my mother wanted me to go to town to collect a few groceries. She handed me money, and I started off, and...then there she was. This really, really old woman. She stood directly in front of me, holding out her hand, and her eyes..." Leona looked up.

The beast was staring at her again, and Leona couldn't help it. She stared back. She fell into his eyes, his black, unmoving eyes, and her words just started to tumble out.

"She asked me for food. I didn't have any but...I couldn't help it. She looked so hungry. I gave her my money. I really shouldn't have, since when I got home, my mother refused to feed me for a day to repay what I had 'taken', but...well, there's something that I never told my mother about that day." Leona reached around her neck, and pulled out a thin gold chain. Attached to that chain was a tiny pink rose, so tiny it was barely bigger than the tip of Leona's pinkie finger. "You see this? She gave it to me. I asked my friend Gerry, who worked as a blacksmith, before he- he died, to put a loop on it so I could wear it."

Her smile became bittersweet for a moment in memory, and then she cleared her throat, ready to set her past free.

"But you see? It has always given me luck. The old woman told me it would. She told me it would bring me to..." Leona laughed. "My destiny." She looked back at the beast. "Do you think me a fool for believing?"

The beast's chest rumbled. Never.

Leona smiled. "I didn't think you would. You see m'Lord, this is why we must help each other. You are trapped in the body of something much worse than what you are, and me, I am trapped in the body of a barmaid. A barmaid who believes in a destiny." She smiled.

The beast's paw waved. You see this laboratory?

Leona nodded. It is the result of my foolish whims. My secret, Leona, is my desire to be human.

Leona blinked, and stepped back in shock. "Human?" she asked incredulously. "Is that...possible?"

The beast looked past her, at all the bottles, at the papers, at the books. It has to be.

# Chapter 4

Leona did not spend long in the laboratory that day. After their talk, the beast grew reclusive, pensive even. He sent her away in a growl shortly after. Most days that followed continued as such- she would clean up the castle, occasionally glancing over her shoulder to find a pair of coal eyes observing her as she worked. Always watching, silently marking her every move, catching her unawares as she sang softly to herself as she mopped or dusted this or that.

Other days she would walk into the brightly lit laboratory to find the beast cloaked once more in his shadow, brooding, eyes grave as he tried one potion after the other, searching, yet never quite reaching it. His frustration would rise and eventually Leona would be sent away, with a wave of a paw and a diversion of the eyes, and then a low growl as the door shut behind her. It was those times that Leona had been afraid of at first- and then she had come to realize, with a heavy pang in her heart, that each time his attempt at humanity failed, he could not look at her. For she was human. She was his goal, standing right in front of him, handling the tubes and frustration with ease.

And each day she came to respect him more.

She saw after only a short while why he could never be a beast- why he strived so valiantly to achieve a human form. Because, deep inside, deep in his heart where each growl of frustration or surprise would emerge, was a human soul. She couldn't understand how she saw this- just about as much as she couldn't understand the companionship she felt with him. She hadn't ever felt this even with Destin or the twins- it was almost a bond, a feeling that even without words she could understand what he needed, what he was saying to her. It probably came from the fact that she could hear his thoughts- but then again, that didn't explain how she could be staring intently into a tube, the beast scribbling furiously behind her, and just as a faint bubble would rise form it, she would smile and look up, and just then the beast's eyes would rise, and they shared for a small moment the smile and success together.

It was unnerving...and yet pleasant all the same.

Leona sighed as she continued to mop the kitchen floor. This was one of her cleaning days; of course she would rather be in the lab helping the beast, but she had decided that at the very least she should have the kitchen clean; after all, it was the warmest place to be during the harsh winter nights.

"You are troubled."

Leona looked up quickly. She wiped her brow quickly, and opened her mouth; Mrs. Kingsley held up a hand.

"Please. Spare me your words."

Leona's jaw hung limp in her dismay. Mrs. Kingsley was carrying a heavy tea tray, loaded down with half-chewed crumpets and sticky cups. "Here," Leona said quickly, walking forward quickly to grasp the other end of the tray. "Let me help."

Mrs. Kingsley made no reply as they carried the tray together to place it next to the large copper sink. "I have spent many years adjusting to such loads," Mrs. Kingsley said crisply as the cups rattled.

Leona scowled, staring at her. Mrs. Kingsley did not turn to face her. She stood staring at the sink. She huffed, and then glanced around, spying each corner. She raised her eyebrows briefly and then started to sweep past Leona.

"You missed the cobwebs over there," she threw back loftily.

Leona threw up her hands. "Why!" she cried. "Why do you hate me so!"

Mrs. Kingsley stopped. She did not turn around as she spoke. She sighed. "My dear...there have been many that pass through these doors," she said, motioning to the thick oak dividing the kitchen and hall. "None have bothered to see beyond them." She continued to walk out.

Leona quickly chased after her. "And?" she prompted.

This time Mrs. Kingsley turned around. She looked hard at Leona, before shaking her head briefly and then saying, "Would you be here if you didn't need it?"

Leona wrinkled her brow. "Would you?"

Mrs. Kingsley gave her a sad smile. "Eternally."

Leona stared at her, looking into her eyes. For the life of her she could not understand this woman. Utterly bewildered, Leona cried out, "If he needed me, I would answer!"

Mrs. Kingsley raised her eyebrows. "Who wouldn't? After all, as the prince of-"

"Not him," Leona sighed. "He's not who we're talking of and you know it. The Prince is...not the true power."

Mrs. Kingsley leaned back a little as she surveyed Leona. "I heard you will be working with him. In there."

Leona knew what she was talking about. She nodded. "Like I said. If he needs me, I will answer."

"Why?"

Leona shrugged. "Why would you? Why would anyone?"

Mrs. Kingsley snorted. "Oh come dear, that is the worst answer I have ever heard in my life. Why would anyone, you ask? Well, the truth is they wouldn't. They'd take one look at his fur, his teeth, and label him a beast. As you have."

Leona narrowed her eyes. She waited for more, but Mrs. Kingsley merely waved her hand and turned to walk away. "You know," Leona said softly. "You know he desires to be human."

Mrs. Kingsley stopped. Only her profile was given; still it was enough to tell that slight tears were forming in her eyes. "He told you?" she whispered.

Leona nodded.

Mrs. Kingsley closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "He is no beast, Leona. He is already human."

Leona narrowed her eyes. "Perhaps."

Mrs. Kingsley turned back to Leona. "There is no perhaps about it. You'll see."

Leona shrugged. The she asked, "Mrs. Kingsley...you tell me not the call him a beast, yet...what other name-"

"If you do not know I cannot tell you," she stated flatly.

Leona made a small, frustrated sound in her throat. "All right! So don't blame me for not understanding! But please...try. Try to understand that I'm doing the best that I can!"

Mrs. Kingsley sighed. Her eyes wandered back to the kitchen, and she gave a small smile. "Apparently." She sighed. "All right Leona. Prepare yourself. Dinner awaits."

Leona raised her eyebrows. "Dinner? For whom?"

Mrs. Kingsley chuckled as she walked into the kitchen. "Now that is quite a story."

"A story?" Leona asked, walking to wash up her hands and put on an apron. "Tell me."

Mrs. Kingsley opened the cabinet doors, taking out flour, eggs, butter. "Well. I must say; with you here it might not be quite as tiring anymore...ah, well. You see, by now you must realize that the Prince...is of course a recluse."

Leona nodded, dipping her hands in flour.

"So instead of looking for prospective brides...prospective brides come looking for him. Of course...none get very far. For you see there is a prophecy. 'Noblest rose of true blood born, she alone will hear the curse, and with it lift him free.'"

Leona frowned. "Which means...?"

Mrs. Kingsley laughed. "Exactly. Well, in our words, it means whichever noble-woman can hear the beast will set the Prince free, so to speak. Will be the one."

Leona looked up sharply. "But I can hear the beast, and-"

"Yes, yes," Mrs. Kingsley said with a wave of her hand. "You understand why I was so surprised of course?"

Leona nodded. She supposed she couldn't begrudge the Prince his belief in fate; not with knowing a talking beast, anyway. That did sort of add credence to the deal.

"We've another prospective...suitor, tonight. Who shall dine with the beast."

Leona felt a small stab in her gut. Could it possibly be jealousy? She shook it off quickly. "And who," Leona cleared her throat, "who is she?"

Mrs. Kingsley gave a dramatic roll of her eyes. She leaned in close. "A woman I personally believe to be a complete fake. But how can I judge? I cannot hear him, so if he says she is the one..." she shrugged.

Leona frowned. "You believe me."

Mrs. Kingsley laughed, placing a hand on her shoulder. "But you, my dear, are not the most selfish ninny I have ever met. We shall leave it at that, hmm?"

Leona smiled. She looked down at her hands as she kneaded dough. "This is a lot of bread for just two," she remarked.

Mrs. Kingsley gave a short bark of laughter. "Two! Good gracious if only! Lady Carolyn, of course, could never live without all of her ladies in waiting!"

Leona's mouth dropped. "All of them! That's bloody at least-"

"Oh, she compromised with ten," Mrs. Kingsley sighed.

Leona looked to the door, her eyebrows raised.

Leona didn't know what to expect. If she had thought that the dining hall would be filled with dust and cobwebs like the rest of the palace...she had greatly underestimated the power of Lady Carolyn. The dining room was, in fact, a fairy tale. Flickering candles lit the room not only in wall sconces, but also in chandeliers positioned at every corner of the room, and on both ends of the enormous table. At least thirty chairs surrounded the rectangular table, two high-backed chairs at each end. Like the rest of the palace, thick, burgundy velvet drapes hung across the windows, blocking light. The walls were papered in gold, reaching up to the ornate carvings on the walls, and on the ceiling... Leona once more had to stop and gape.

The sky was still present, but this time, it was day. The sun shone down brilliantly on the fluffy clouds...and cherubic faces of the angels. Each eye twinkled, each cheek glowed, each chubby finger seemed to bend out and reach for her as Leona stared, breathless.

Have you never before seen art? Again you gape.

Leona smiled slightly as she continued to stare. "Not like this," she whispered.

"Please, dear, do not speak," Mrs. Kingsley hissed.

Leona looked down quickly. "Oh, no, I was just-"

"Are we being served?"

Leona's mouth dropped open. Her legs seemed to shake, her hands reaching out quickly to steady herself with the dinner cart. How could she have possibly missed her? Seated, one hand extended lightly, other resting comfortably on the arm-rest of the high-backed chair, was the most beautiful woman Leona had ever seen.

Thick black hair hung down in waves and curls to her waist, adorned in gold. Azure eyes shone behind thick lashes that fell to briefly kiss pale cheekbones highlighted in the palest of peach. Full, red lips were set in a tight pout. Her throat gleamed with blood-red rubies, matching the red silk gown that flowed over her curves. Gold was sewn into the dress in a delicate design of flowers. All around her sat similarly adorned ladies, though all paling in the radiance of her beauty.

"Yes, m'Lady," Mrs. Kingsley said quickly.

Lady Carolyn arched her fine brows in mockery. "Excellent," she murmured. Then her eyes glanced behind Leona, to the beast.

The beast was cautiously working his way forward to sit in the other high-backed chair at the other end of the table. He was nearly fifteen feet away from the rest of the ladies. Leona frowned, finding this a bit odd. Why should the beast sit so far, if this was a type of...test?

Serve, Leona.

Leona quickly moved to the tray to bring it closer to pile food on his plate, but Lady Carolyn shrieked out, "What are you doing!"

Leona froze. "I was just- he just- I-"

"We are here, not there, you twit!"

Leona looked quickly at the beast. Which was when she noticed that there was no dinner place set up for him. "You do not eat?" she asked quietly.

Not here, he said, surprised.

Feeling foolish, and more confused than ever, Leona wheeled the cart down to the other end of the table, trying to ignore the stares.

"Look at her, she's so filthy," one of the ladies whispered loudly.

Leona looked up quickly, but at the harsh look from Mrs. Kingsley, hid her temper. Together, Mrs. Kingsley and Leona served them, waited on them, and tried their best to ignore them. This was really the kind of behavior a lady guest displayed? She wondered how Lady Carolyn would act in front of the Prince; this was ridiculous.

It wasn't until half-way though dinner that Leona truly began to lose her temper.

"So I was about to take a ride today when the awful- what was that?" Carolyn had been engrossed in her own conversation, when suddenly, she stopped, staring directly at the beast. The beast had so far been doing nothing but stare at her during the entire meal. "Oh," Carolyn's teeth spread in a false smile. "Why thank you."

Leona couldn't help it. Without heeding Mrs. Kingsley, Leona burst out, "But he didn't say anything!"

The entire room fell silent. Carolyn turned her icy blue eyes directly on Leona. "Not to you, dear," she said, ice dripping from every word. "Why would he? Only I, the noblest born, can hear him."

Leona's brow wrinkled.

"Honestly; these servants!" Carolyn hissed to her maids. Thinking she had put Leona in her place, Carolyn turned away, but Leona was still utterly confused. She opened her mouth, and then suddenly the beast cut in.

Leave it be, Leona.

Leona turned to him, a question in her eyes.

Carolyn had since turned to face the beast. "You horrid creature, how you could let her treat me like this! I am your savior!" Her ladies chorused her indignantly.

Did you not hear what I thought, lovely?

Leona realized he was not speaking to her. She turned to see Carolyn's reaction.

The princess smiled, and then said, her words dripping honey, "Of course I did not mean to call you horrid."

Leona frowned deeper. "But that had nothing to do with-"

"Hush, Leona," Mrs. Kingsley said quietly, grabbing her arms as she looked back and forth from the beast to the lady. She started to push Leona out of the room, oblivious to Carolyn's insults.

"But Mrs. Kingsley she-"

"Why don't you head on up to check on your mother then dear," she was saying, finally shoving her out the door.

Once Leona was out of the dining room, she shut the doors quickly in Leona's face, Leona's mouth still open to argue.

### Chapter 5

Leona did not go to sit with her mother. Instead, she went to sit with herself, alone in the garden. It wasn't much of a garden; all that was left in the middle of winter were a few bare trees and stone benches. Still, it was quiet, and empty; just what she needed, then. For a little while, she'd been able to forget; forget the was a barmaid. Forget that she was just a servant, working for a beast.

She supposed she should be grateful to Lady Carolyn for reminding her of the truth.

Leona's footsteps echoed as she huddled beneath her coat, her breath blowing out in front of her. She sat on one of the many benches, staring up at the bleak face of the castle before her.

You are upset.

Leona did not move. Her eyes wandered to the shadows, where she knew she would see him. She stared at him a long time, letting herself soak in the sight of him. His fur was dusted with snow on the bottom, and somewhat on the top where a tree had brushed him as he strode past it. She could not see his face; it was cloaked in shadow. Yet she could see his breath, billowing out, exploring the night air till it met and mingled with her own. Her eyes felt heavy as she said flatly, "The Price must be shallow to even entertain the thought of her as a bride."

She heard him take a step forward. This bothers you?

Leona looked up at him angrily, and suddenly her sadness fled, replaced with cold, hard fury. "Yes!" she screamed out. "He lets them come and treat you, others, as if they were nothing! And you do nothing! You sit and- and let this happen. You do realize she hates you? That she's just using you, that all she wants is-"

She is beautiful. It comforts me.

Leona gaped at him. "Comforts you?"

The beast's answer was tilted with a chuckle. I thought only I growled.

Leona turned away from him in disgust. "Is that the criteria, then? I thought you better than this," she said softly. She started to walk away.

Such beauty, such a beastly nature. She comforts me, Leona, for showing me that I truly am still...will be human.

Leona stopped. Narrowing her eyes, she turned back around. "You know she cannot hear you."

Yes. And yes, she will be sent home.

Leona stood with the beast there, in the courtyard, shivering. Around them snowflakes started to fall, lightly dusting the beast's fur with ivory. The stillness of the night enveloped them, twisted around them. Leona laughed suddenly. "How many others like her have there been, subjected to this test, laughed at for what they truly are? Are any potential suitors, or are they all...comforts for you?"

The beast did not move. They are my saviors, Leona. She, others like her, have shown me...my curse.

Leona raised her eyebrows. "I don't understand."

The beast stepped forward. I continue to entertain these ladies because I must; because the prophecy is clear what it will take. But I watch them...tolerate them, because though ladies like Carolyn may not understand me, I understand them. Their crude bitterness...is what I must lift off. What I must overcome.

Leona shook her head, pierced suddenly with the sadness in his words. She stepped closer, reaching out a comforting hand; she then withdrew it slowly, realizing what she was doing. "You're not crude," she finally said.

The beast growled. Perhaps. Think, Leona. I am.

Leona shook her head. "I..." She bit her lip. "You have shown me nothing but kindness," she said, not knowing what to say.

The beast continued to stare at her. Kindness, Leona?

Leona frowned. "Why- yes. I told you earlier-"

Ah. Of course. You must understand; I had to account for my lack of foresight. I had to right the wrong I had wrought up on you.

Leona shook her head. "I haven't...what wrong? You didn't-"

But I did!

Leona widened her eyes and took a step back at the force in his voice.

The beast's eyes glowed with passion, with rage as he took a step forward, fists clenched, teeth bared. How dare you call me kind? How dare you flatter me with words of comfort? Do you know who I am? What I am?

Leona's mouth fell open. Her body started to shake as her calves ran into the icy cement of the bench behind her. The beast growled, leaping forward suddenly, and Leona shrieked, falling backward into the snow. Her skirt tangled above her knees, bottom wet with snow, shawl abandoned on the ground, eyes wide with fear. She stared up at the beast. Her breath continued to puff out in a frenzied succession. Then he spoke, looming above her, oblivious to her pain. Or perhaps all too aware of it.

I am a beast, Leona.

"I don't understand," she whispered.

He came closer still, crouching down. Almost too afraid to move, Leona watched him, his large paw mirrored in her eyes as it reached out to trace the line her jaw. A shudder coursed through her body.

You see? Can you not feel it? You know. You've seen my laboratory. You've seen Carolyn. Both wastes of time and energy, oh yes, this I know, yet I am driven by selfish desire to keep both. Dear Leona...where else would I get the funding for it, if not from...you?

Leona's mouth dropped. "Me?" she whispered.

You. You are, after all...a part of that world from which I am excluded. The kingdom, Leona, is taxed because of my whims. Make no mistake; these are my whims. You said it yourself; I allow this to continue. And what sort of beast would willingly plunge his country into ruin, and then punish its occupants for not paying, knowing they could not help it?

Leona felt a deep, guttural rage enter her belly; she felt sick. "It's true," she breathed.

It was him. He had been the cause of her pain, the reason she lost her job, her friend, her home.... Her eyes burned icy holes into the beast's warm stare, captured him in her sickening gaze. Her palms stinging with cold, Leona stood up, spine stiff. "I see."

Her words dripped with indifference. She didn't know what to think. He'd been so kind and yet...had he not been such a- a beast she wouldn't have needed his kindness in the first place!

Anger and sadness swam through her head as she watched him. He remained crouched in the snow, staring up at her, awaiting her final judgment. She opened her mouth- and Mrs. Kingsley's shrill cry shot through the night.

"Leona!" she called, shoving open the thick Palace doors, showering the beast with yellow light.

Leona remained in darkness, eyes wide, trying to connect thought to speech. Mrs. Kingsley ran out, boots crunching in the fresh snow, breath ragged. "Leona, it's your mother! She's collapsed- she's- oh- wait!" Mrs. Kingsley called as, with a gasp, Leona sprinted toward the castle.

# Chapter 6

Leona didn't know what to think. She just ran. She slammed through the corridors, screaming past the dusty armored suits and paintings. Leona finally reached her mother's chamber, throwing open the door. Her mother was on the floor, eyes closed, frail body shivering slightly. Leona quickly ran to her and crouched over her.

"Oh mama," she whispered.

Leona grabbed her wrist. There was a pulse. Leona watched for the faint rise and fall of her chest, hope blossoming when she could make out signs of life.

What happened?

Leona quickly sniffed and wiped her eyes. "She- she's had another attack- I-"

This has happened before?

Leona's eyes hollowed at the memory. "Yes. It has." And she remembered all that last attack had cost them both.

New fear snaking into her heart, Leona leaned back on her heels and put her face in her hands. She stared at her mother. There was absolutely no color in her gaunt cheeks. For weeks now her mother had been doing worse and worse, eating less, talking less. Leona should have known this was coming.

Leona suddenly reached out and gripped her mother's hand tightly. She brought it to her lips. "I will do anything, mama," she whispered.

Leona closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, she was strong, calm. She knew what had to be done. She turned her head and looked at the beast. He'd been standing behind her, Mrs. Kingsley in the hall behind, watching silently. He was studying her, quietly watching her every move. His entire body was still. "I need your help," she whispered.

Suddenly the beast surged forward and bent down, picking up her mother in one large scoop. Leona imagined she had looked much the same, that night she had arrived, being held like a limp doll in the beast's arms. The beast placed her mother carefully on the bed, and Leona gasped softly. His hands were shaking as he stepped back. His head swiftly turned to look at Leona, almost like a little child, unsure if he had done right.

Leona stared into his eyes, and for a moment, just a brief second, her heart went out to this poor creature, so human-like and yet...such a beast.

Then she shook herself slightly and said briskly, "I need to go to town. And I have to take her with me."

The beast growled low in his throat. For what purpose?

Leona tightened her lips. "I need to see the doctor. I can't...he has the only medicine that will cure her."

The beast narrowed his eyes. I will accompany you.

Leona's jaw fell slack. "I- you'll what?" The beast repeated himself firmly, and Leona shook her head. "You can't- the people- think of what they'll-"

Are you ashamed of my help?

Leona shut her mouth. She stared at him. "Never," she whispered.

Then I shall go. I will carry her into the courtyard, where a carriage will be waiting. Just tell me where to go.

Leona took a deep breath and nodded quickly. The beast once more hefted her mother into his arms, and Leona walked out, grasping Mrs. Kingsley's arm as she walked down the hall, speaking quickly. "I must go to town. I need to get medicine there. The beast has offered to help me...he is going with me."

At these words Mrs. Kingsley stopped, eyes wide, but Leona's quick stride kept her going.

"You can't be serious," she breathed.

Leona's grim expression stilled every other word. To Leona's great surprise, there was a carriage, large enough to fit the beast, in the courtyard upon their entry. Leona had not a moment to pause before she was lifted up and tossed inside by a footman. She quickly scrambled to the far corner when the beast's large frame loomed in the doorway.

Help me. Hold her in place.

Leona reached out and held onto her mother as the beast lifted her into the seat next to Leona. Leona rested her mother's head in her lap. Then the beast climbed in. He took up the entire bench opposite the two women. Leona stared at him in the darkness as the carriage began to roll and sway as is hurtled down the mountain. She could not see his eyes at all, could barely tell he was there, except for the faint glow of silver on his forearm as is rested in front of the window, in the light of the moon.

Leona was shaking, from cold and fear, but she kept her mouth shut, afraid to tear her eyes away from the darkness.

You are afraid. You are shaking.

Leona's grip tightened on her mother. "Yes," she whispered.

The beast made a sound low in his throat. Of me?

Leona stared at him. Her eyes, finally adjusted to the dark, found his and locked. "No."

Their breaths mingled in the silent air. Afraid of the beast? No. Why should she be? How selfish for him to think her fear was of him.

He'd almost ruined her life. Twice now. He hadn't known...could never possibly have known how hard her life had been because of the taxes, because of her lack of money...yet had he known, would he have cared? Most likely not- after all, he'd said that he understood the trouble he caused already. He felt guilty. That was why he was helping her. Leona took in a sharp breath.

"You didn't have to do this," she said icily. She didn't need his pity. She didn't want it. She could, and would, find her own way.

I know. I want to.

Leona shook her head. "Want? Is that what you call it?"

The beast huffed out of his nose. More than you could ever know, Leona.

Leona looked away. She noticed that the lights of the small town were coming into view. "You feel sorry for my mother and I, for what you've done to us. I understand."

Leona's eyes widened and snapped back around as the beast growled and surged forward. Guilt! Pity! That is all you think I feel! Oh dear Leona, it is so much more than that!

Leona stared into his eyes. "Then what?" she cried. "What else is there? Wasn't that what you were telling me in the garden?"

The beast lifted his hand. You inspire me, my friend. You were willing to die for your mother, willing to do anything and everything...for someone who shows you nothing. For a woman who, I've watched, calls you worthless. Perhaps, Leona, I too wish I could have such convictions. I wish I could be so passionate as to leave everything behind to make you...make the kingdom...happy. Yet I am dragged down by my selfishness. I can't help but stand in awe of such beauty as you show, dear Leona.

Leona felt tears rise to her eyes. "I'm just a barmaid, beast," she whispered, as the carriage rolled to a halt. Before one more word was spoken, Leona quickly disentangled herself from her mother, and jumped from the carriage.

She wrapped her arms tightly about herself as the chill night air hit her full blast. She'd forgotten her shawl. Her eyes strained down the tiny street, resting to stare at a wooden sign lit by the golden glow of a lantern. Feet already numbing, Leona took a deep breath as she started to crunch through the snow. Her hand shook as she lifted it to knock on the door. She closed her eyes briefly, unwilling to give in to her fear, and clenched her hand into a fist. She knocked briskly, three times. After a muffled curse and heavy thumping, the door was thrown wide, and there they stood, he clad in naught but a nightgown, her shivering in her thin dress.

He blinked at her, then breathed, "Leona."

He opened his mouth to say more, but she quickly choked out, "She's had another attack. I need...your help."

Destin widened his eyes. "Another-" he looked behind her, hand automatically moving to the small of her back to usher her forward, "is that your carriage?"

Leona looked behind. The beast's slick carriage still waited, silent as death in the chill of the night. "No, a...friend, lent it to me. She's in there. I need you to fetch the doctor and bring him to my cottage- please."

Destin placed both hands on her shoulders, looking at her firmly. "Leona, you know-"

He stopped when he saw the tears starting to form in her eyes. "Please," she repeated. "He knows I have no money. He will not help if I...if I go."

Destin raised his hand to touch her face. She shivered at the warmth in his hand. It seemed that all warmth had long since left her body. "And what do I tell him, Leona?"

She knew what he was asking. She took in her breath; she knew what she had to do. How stupid of her to have ever trusted her life could be different; that a beast could be anything but a beast. "Tell him...that your mother is dying."

Destin took her chin in his hand, eyebrows raised. "My mother?"

Leona's lips thinned. "Aye."

Destin searched her face. Even upon this news, he looked grim. He said briskly, "You made the right choice. Go. I'll fetch him and be there shortly."

He released her abruptly, and Leona fell back a few steps, cringing as he shut the door in her face. She stared at the heavy oak door, breathing hard, arms limp at her sides. What had she just done? Her mind whispered. She covered her hand with her mouth. Then suddenly she turned and ran back to the carriage, throwing open the door and shouting, "Go!"

The beast stared at her, his eyes questioning, as she tried to clamor in. But her she could barely see, could barely find the strength to lift herself up. And then he was there. One warm, great paw grasped her waist, and she was lifted, hauled almost straight into the beast's lap. The door slammed shut and the carriage tore off, leaving Leona sprawled on top of the beast's chest.

She couldn't help it. She felt safe. She felt so right, sitting there, wrapped within his warm embrace. The beast's arms wrapped around her, securing her, and she cried, burying her face into his fur. Her fists wrapped around his hair, taking comfort in his strength and friendship.

You ache, dear one.

Leona wrenched words from her heart, whispering, "I'm so afraid!"

The beast's grip tightened. Aren't we all?

At this Leona cried harder. "I don't know what to do," she continued. "Oh beast...I'm so afraid!" She felt his body vibrate with his low howl.

Of what, my Leona, what fears haunt you? I will fight them all.

Leona laughed a little against him. "Fight them? For me? For what?" she barked out another, harsher laugh. "You can't fight fate. You can't change what life I've already fallen into." His fur was wet where she had cried against him. She lifted her head a bit, and wiped at it with her hand. She sniffed. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to impose-"

It matters not. I only wish to see you happy, Leona. I would bathe in your tears would it but stop their coming for all eternity.

Leona caught her breath. With her head lifted, she could feel his breath stirring the loose hair about her nape, could feel with her body the steady rise and fall of his chest. And she...could see his eyes. She narrowed her own. "They're brown," she said. "Like...mine," she finished on a whisper.

Like hers. His eyes...they were so human. Staring at her intently, searching...caring. And beneath her hand, she felt his heart. Thump, thump. Her breath inhaled. He exhaled. And her fears were gone. In those few seconds, when between them, no beast and woman existed, but two souls reaching out, trying to comfort...she was whole. She knew it was all right. Her friend, this creature, he was there, and she knew, just knew that he would never let anything bad happen to her ever again. No matter what she did or who she was, what she became or what she chose to do...she was free. Here. Right...here.

Then one of the horses cried out as they were suddenly whipped to a halt, and her head was jostled about.

She blinked, and then pushed against his hold. He released her. She took a breath, sitting across from him, staring, wondering if he had felt anything like she had. But of course not. He was a beast.

Her eyes cooled again, and the carriage door opened. "Bring her inside," she said. "I'll go ahead and get a fire going...try to get some clean sheets on the bed."

She winced as she heard her mother groan as the beast lifted her up.

Leona quickly walked inside, instantly grimacing at the poor order it had fallen into. In the weeks she had been at the castle, cobwebs had formed, dust had grown on everything, and a few animals had scurried in from the cold, leaving dirty tracks and over-turned pots. She sighed and walked to the fireplace, heaving in logs, then rubbing flint stones by paper to get it sparking. She heard the beast's heavy footsteps squeak the wood floor as he entered, and Leona rose from the awakening fire to reach into a cabinet. She pulled out a few blankets and threw them on top of the bed, situated in the room because of the warmth the fireplace offered during winter.

"I don't have time to change it completely," she explained, and the beast laid her mother down gently. "Thank you," Leona said, while walking to the room beyond and coming back with a pot of water. She placed it over the fire to boil. She sighed and looked around, wishing she could straighten up a bit before-

This...place, is where you live?

Leona ignored the note of incredulity in the beast's tone and shrugged. "There are three rooms upstairs, but I only use this front living room to keep and eye on my mother. I cook here as well."

The beast growled low. This is...

Leona glared at him and he stopped. "What we can afford," she said between her teeth. "Never forget, beast, that before I took residence in your castle, I was but a simple barmaid."

The beast slid into the shadows as he muttered, Ever so persistent. Perhaps if you would stop reminding me, I would indeed forget.

Leona snorted. "To what cause?" She swept a low curtsey, the ragged hem of her dress, wet from the snow, collecting dust as it slid across the floor. She touched her cap and then laughed. "Who else could I possibly ever be?"

The beast stared at her, watching her body shake from cold, lit by the soft glow of the fire. His eyes were not mocking as he said softly, A princess. Rose of any garden.

Leona raised her eyebrows, mouth slightly parted, unable to respond. Then harsh knocking once more saved her from having to.

"Leona! Leona I've brought the doctor!"

She turned away from the beast's warm eyes and quickly opened the door, admitting both Destin and the small man behind him. He rushed to the bed, checking for her mother's pulse. "She's alive," Leona said, "Just had another attack. I think she needs...more of that-"

"I know what she needs," the doctor snapped.

Who is he?

Leona ignored the beast. She had so far hoped that he would not be noticed in the shadows, and as she suspected, as long as he was still he remained invisible. The doctor opened his bag, lifting out a small, green vial. Her eyes gleamed with it with the glow from the fire, as she gulped. "Yes," she whispered.

Then the doctor smiled, revealing yellowed, rotting teeth. "My dear...I suspect you remember the cost of such...medication. From the looks of things...I may just be wasting my time."

Hot fire blazed in Leona stomach. She stood tall. "I can pay," she said clearly.

The doctor raised his eyebrows. "Money talks far better than words, love."

Leona grit her teeth, lips thin. She felt humiliation cloak her with a cover of thorns, and, words clipped, said, "My- fiancé- has the proper coin."

FIANCÉ! The beast roared, at the same instant as the doctor sighed, "Ah," to the sound of Destin's clinking coins.

Leona did not look in the beast's direction, could not, had not been expecting to feel his warm paws pressing into her shoulders. She gasped, body slightly leaned backwards, eyes locked into his steaming gaze. He stood full height in front of her, fire blazing behind him, hot breath jagged.

So this! Is this what you fear! Is this what you reduce yourself down to!

Leona opened her mouth, and Destin's jagged cry cut through the air.

"BEAST!" he roared. "Unhand her!"

She saw the glint of a knife in the beast's eyes, as Destin approached.

Leona turned her head. "No Destin! It's all right! He's my friend! He-"

But Destin was not listening. His eyes mirrored only the horrid scene he thought he saw- Leona being bent backward by the weight of a beast digging his claws into her shoulders, mouth hovering just above hers, about to devour her.

Answer me! Is this what you want! Is this who you would willingly pledge your life to- or would you trust me!

Leona snapped her gaze back to the beast. "Trust you?" she whispered.

"Trust me, yes, Leona, careful, don't move, I'll-"

Let me help.

Leona's mouth stood agape. Just then Destin lunged, and the beast roared as his knife slit into his belly. Leona screamed, but then she was flying, tossed into the air by the beast, thrown away from him and onto the floor by her mother's bed. The beast was crouched, as was Destin, ready to pounce, knife and claws glinting with devil light. Leona gasped and tried to rise, but tripped over something. She looked down to see the cowering doctor, on the floor, eyes wide.

"He'll be killed! We're all to be killed!" he was whispering to himself. His eyes frantically shot to the door.

Leona fell down beside him. "Please- please help her-"

He shook his head in madness, shaking off her hands, scooting away from her. "No- they won't- I promise you're safe, just help-"

"Safe!" he squeaked. He took one last look at the two fighters, and then the beast growled, and he rose to his feet, sprinting towards the door.

"NO!" she shrieked. Her desperate eyes shot to her mother, and then realized her breathing had stopped. In a panic, she tried to rise to go after him, but the doctor was long gone. Leona ignored the grunts of the two beasts behind her, climbing to her knees and reaching for her mother's icy hands.

"No mama," she whispered, "No, stay here, don't go, I'll stay- I won't marry him, I promise, I'll make you happy, we can- mama," she rambled rapidly, trying to reach her mother with words. But that was all- she didn't know what to do.

She turned her gaze back to the fight. Destin was on top of the beast, knife aimed to his heart, but the beast was holding him off with one strong paw. She saw, in one blink, that the beast could easily be rid of him, easily defend himself. But he was holding back. For her. For he didn't know her answer.

Leona croaked out, "Help me!"

The beast's head froze, and he stopped growling. He turned to look at her, and his arms went lax. Destin bellowed out and plunged his knife deep into the beast's chest. The beast howled in pain, and Leona gasped, as she watched with terrified eyes the beast lose control. His eyes filmed over with rage, and suddenly his claws sank into Destin, ripping him off his chest. Destin cried out in pain.

The beast stood, growling, and Leona cried, "No!"

Destin was moaning in the beast's death grip. The beast shook him a little, and then tossed him against the wall. Leona felt her stomach, and her heart, sink with nausea as she heard the wet crack. She covered her mouth with her hand, stomach pumping forward air in an effort to be rid of the bile cloaking it. Hot tears sprung to her eyes, and she stood, swaying on her feet, staring into Destin's open, lifeless eyes. She was about to go to him, when suddenly, her wrist was encased in a grip of cold steel.

Leona spun around, gasping, "Mother!"

Her mother's eyes were open, strong, and yet...she was staring at the beast. Leona opened her mouth to explain, when her mother's weak voice filled the room. It was full of longing, dreams...weak yet dazed with hope.

"Leona," she whispered. "Your prince."

Leona widened her eyes. She looked back, checking to see if- and yes, it was the beast, looming behind her, that her mother spoke of. "Mother..." she didn't know what to say.

Was this it? Was she truly, finally gone mad?

Leona's mother laughed, and tears filled her eyes. "Oh Leona...he's beautiful. Golden, glowing...I knew you would make me..." Leona grasped her mother's hand tight as her voice started to fade. "Proud," her mother whispered, her head sinking back onto the pillows, her fingers going limp in Leona's palm.

"Mama," she cried, "no." She whimpered, bringing her still hand to her cheek. Her mother's eyes were still open, staring off into the distance, looking out across the open field, where a white horse was coming to swiftly carry her away.

Leona felt her heart wrench apart as she felt the final beat of her mother's heart, felt her body tremble with grief and pain as she sunk to her knees, head bowed. "I love you mama," she whispered. "I'll always love you."

The cottage was still. The fire popped, crackling. Leona's weeping was the only sound to be heard. Then the boards creaked behind her, and she gasped, quickly looking up. The beast was just above her, his eyes glazed in pain. Bile rose to her throat at the sight of the blood pooling into his fur.

My Leona...you are free.
Chapter 7

Leona widened her eyes. She stood up, watery eyes straying to Destin. She quickly ran over to kneel beside him. With shaking fingers she checked for a pulse. She hadn't expected to find one. "You killed him," she whispered.

The beast stared at her. It was not my intent. I only meant to help. I was trying to get to you.

Leona closed her eyes against the pain. "All the same. What will we do?"

She heard a heavy thump behind her, and looked to see that the beast had slumped against the wall. We, dear one?

Leona's lips trembled. Her eyes clouded, filled with black. Who else? How else could she live? Her mother, along with the only man who would ever show enough pity for her to wed, now lay breathless in the cottage. Because of her. Because she had made a choice- and now she must live with that choice.

She took a deep breath. In her view, the beast started to focus, and with a clarity that brought her to hysteria, she realized that he was all she had left. This kind creature was her only hope at survival. And he, too, was about to depart. Choking out a sob, Leona quickly rose and yanked a blanket from under her mother. She threw it about the beast's middle, tying it tight to stop the flow of blood.

"Yes," she whispered. "We."

She sniffed, ready to dry her eyes and be done with her tears. Her past was long gone- to weep for it would only bring ruin to her future. She had to let go. The moment she stepped from the cottage, she vowed she would start anew, never look back, never again think about the broken dreams and promises she had stepped out of. Instead, she would work, and eventually, perhaps she would move to another small village, marry... Her heart ached. But she knew nothing else! How could she- how could-

Hushing her rushing thoughts, a new one suddenly burst free, putting all others on a shelf in its importance and urgency. Alarm filled her head and she recalled the doctor's horror filled eyes, and she gasped. "They will come for you," she whispered. "We must flee. Now."

She grasped his paw, and tried to pull. He would not move. Fear snaking through her heart, she realized that his eyes were closed. "Beast!" she cried, "You must be strong! Please- I will take care of you- but for now we must go!"

For a long while nothing happened. Then, a weak voice filled her head, filling her with hope all at the same time. You will not leave?

Leona sobbed out, "Of course not. Now come." She tugged again, and this time, he came, one slow step at a time, out into the cold and into the waiting carriage. Luckily he had strength enough to climb inside, and though his breathing increased, he stayed with her.

She rode the entire reckless ride beside him, stroking his head, murmuring words of encouragement. She tried to not let her fear show through. For even though she was deathly afraid of loosing him, afraid of his death, afraid of what she would do if...if she couldn't...talk to him, or... She took a deep breath. She needed to ensure that he was calm.

As the carriage rolled to a halt in front of the castle, Leona jumped out, dashing to find Mrs. Kingsley, but the woman was already running out to greet them. "Mrs. Kingsley!" Leona shouted, rushing to grasp her arms. "You must get help- he's- there's been a fight and he-"

Mrs. Kingsley gasped when she saw him. "I knew he shouldn't have gone!" she whispered frantically.

Where are we? Are we safe?

Leona took his hand. "Yes, dear beast, we are. We're home."

Home? Whispered though her head.

Leona nodded. The driver had run to get help, and came back running with five giant men, who shoved Leona and Mrs. Kingsley away to lift up the beast. He howled as they started to carry him.

I ache, Leona. Save me.

Leona's heart went out to him, the poor beast that had only tried to help her. Whose only intent had been to protect. Despite everything...despite how selfish he'd been, what a beast he claimed to be, really, how was he any different than her? If she hadn't been so selfish as to deny Destin months ago, her mother would have still been alive.

She ran after the men, following them up into a large room. The room was filled with nothing but pelts of fur strewn about the ground. She figured this must be where he slept. They placed him carefully in the center, and Mrs. Kingsley came forth to carefully strip away his make-shift bandage.

"I tried to stop the blood," Leona explained. "It was all I had."

Mrs. Kingsley looked grim. "This will take a miracle, child."

Leona covered her mouth with her hand.

Leona. Leona's eyes snapped to the beast's. My lab. Near my desk...there is a plant. Use its juices. It...heals.

Leona quickly nodded, dashing out of the room, stomping up the stairs in her mad haste. She had to save him. She just had to.

She plucked the plant's leaves bare and ran them through one of the beast's many machines, dismayed to see that even with all that, she only had but one vial of juice. She stared at it, breathing hard, and closed her eyes to pray that it was enough.

Leona's feet could barely walk fast enough, her hands not quite steady, her breath not yet stable. She shoved through the heavy doors to the beast's chambers to find it empty, save Mrs. Kingsley. She sat still, beside the beast, one hand splayed carefully over his heart. Silent tears rode down her cheeks to her chin, to disappear within the folds of her heart. The beast's eyes were closed; yet he was breathing steadily. As Leona approached Mrs. Kingsley looked up, her eyes begging for good news.

"Save him, Leona. Please."

Leona's eyes watered.

Mrs. Kingsley gripped her hand, breath catching. "He means everything to me."

Leona knelt down beside her and the beast. "I know," she said softly. "He is all I have left as well."

Mrs. Kinsley's grip tightened and her eyes narrowed. "What?" she breathed.

Leona took a deep breath and shot her eyes away quickly. "My mother is dead. The beast..." Leona frowned, remembering. "She called him my prince." She laughed a bit, as she started to unravel the bandages placed on his wound.

Mrs. Kingsley had let go of her hand, and when Leona glanced up to see how she reacted, she paused. "Your prince?" Mrs. Kingsley asked curiously, albeit a bit cautiously.

Leona shook her head. "I think she was delusional in her.... Well." Leona laughed roughly. "A prince for a barmaid...well. I suppose he is, isn't he? My knight in shining armor. He saved me. Ruined me and saved me. No more than I'd already ruined and needed to save myself." She said the last bit hushed, looking down, the wound bared. She felt tears prick her eyes again, but she held them back. She had to be strong.

The fur around it had been carefully shaved, revealing his smooth, white skin, marred by the ugly, gaping gash with crusted blood about it. She held up the vial, brow creased. "I think I just pour it on," she said. Then she looked up at Mrs. Kingsley. "He had another cut, in his stomach- I think-"

"I bound it already. It is not much. This one is..." she didn't finish.

Leona quickly nodded and pulled off the cork. She carefully tipped out the liquid onto his skin, startled into stopping when it started to fizzle and bubble.

Mrs. Kingsley's frown was deep, but she said, as Leona reached for a towel to wipe it off, "Don't. He knows what he's doing in there."

Meaning if the beast had asked for it, it would work.

As they waited patiently by the beast's side, Mrs. Kingsley said softly, "You say prince as if it were lunacy to believe him human."

Leona looked at her. "Isn't it?" she asked. In her voice was scorn, but in her eyes held her heart, waiting for an answer to put to rest or blossom her silly thoughts. Leona did not know if Mrs. Kingsley could see it or not.

The woman smiled thinly, and whispered, "No more than it is for you to accept his love."

Leona's eyes widened. "Love? How can a beast love? How..." her voice started to crack. "How can you love a beast?"

At this she felt the traitorous tears try to rebel against her restraints again.

"I love him, Leona," Mrs. Kingsley said. "Love doesn't need five fingers and bare skin to grip us," she said as she rose to her feet.

Leona's lips tightened. "I know that. But he's-"

"As human as you and I. Just look at him!"

Leona looked back to the beast's face. She saw his fur, wet nose-

"He sleeps. Exhausted. By day he troubles over vanity and greed, by night he worries himself into a sleepless rest. He breathes, his heart beats- and he thinks of you. Oh Leona, can't you think of him too? Not of his body...but of his soul?"

Leona was gripping the beast's paw in her two hands. Her grip tightened. "Are you asking me to fall in love with your beast?" she sake acidly.

Mrs. Kingsley's eyes blackened. "I asked you to save him. That's all." She turned to leave, opening the door, but before she left, she looked back and said, "I would think that you, barmaid, would not be so quick to judge others by how they appear."

Leona's mouth dropped as the door clicked shut. She felt her heart pounding and her cheeks heating with humiliation. Mrs. Kingsley had never once called her barmaid. Not only that...never had she felt more like the filthy beggar that she was. She felt shamed, to have denied him his humanity, yet claimed it so willingly herself, through her faults and vanity.

What really did make her more human than him? Her pink flesh? Her short, stubby fingernails? Was that really all there was to the word? He felt pain. He cared for her. He felt guilt, remorse- greed. Anger. He was no beast. His faults were as great as her own. His mistake of taxing the kingdom, she had called beastly. His greed and selfishness to keep Carolyn and his laboratory- what made that more beastly than Carolyn's vanity, her cruelty? How had Destin's selfishness to not give unless he got become so much less in her mind, compared to the beast's kindness, his willingness to give to her, help her- her! A woman whose hair would never quite stay in its cap, whose cheek was forever marked with dirt, whose dress was forever destined to be ripped at the hem? Her, a woman who couldn't even see a man when he stared into her eyes and told her he'd fight all her fears for her, who would rather die than see her tears slide down her cheeks?

"You're doing a poor job of it," she whispered with a sad laugh. She sniffed and shook her head. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Had I not been so caught up in my own selfishness to be more than who I am...perhaps I would have seen who you truly are."

Had she not always wished that her mother would see beyond her apron and into her soul? Had she not wanted her entire life to be regarded as someone worthy of love, of a man to take care of her, not just use her and bark orders for ale at? So what made her so different...than him?

Leona's grip tightened on his paw. "You called me a rose," she whispered. She choked on her words as they tried to stumble out, felt her stomach reach for breath as she strained to speak. "I called you a beast, and all you ever- all you ever had to say- was that I was beautiful." She closed her eyes and bowed her head. "My friend, I would do anything to repay you," she whispered, "for baring my soul. For giving me the chance to show you who I was...instead of who I told you I was."

She sniffed. When she opened her eyes again, she was caught in his deep, dark stare. She smiled a little, thinly.

I see you, Leona. So clearly.

Leona laughed a little. She reached up to stroke his head with her hand, tracing his face to his chin. "I know," she whispered.

A heavy thudding shuddered the door behind them. The beast tried to raise his head and fell back, faint.

Leona frowned and shook her own head, saying sternly, "No. You lost too much blood- you need to rest." She stood, walking to the door. Mrs. Kingsley stood behind it. Leona knew what was wrong as soon as she saw the fear shining in the old woman's eyes.

"Torches- up the path- I can't-"

Leona gripped her arm and shook her head. Mrs. Kingsley opened her mouth to say more, but Leona cut her off with a fierce look. "I'll handle it," she said lowly. She walked back to the beast and knelt down.

Torches? They've come. He tried again to rise, and Leona knew with a hard pang in her heart that he was far too weak to fight them all. Far too weak to do anything but watch as they came for him with swords at the ready to-

She sucked in her breath and shook her head quickly. "Not to worry," she said with a tight smile. "I know these men- If I- If I just..." she felt her lips trembling and took a deep breath to steady her racing heart. She knew what she had to do. And she was terrified.

I cannot let you face them alone, dear one, I must-

"No!" she said forcefully, finally pushing him hard to the ground as he tried to get up. He stared at her, at a loss for words. He must have seen the fear in her eyes, for he again tried to argue, but she cut him off with a warm smile.

"Don't you worry," she whispered. She reached around her neck, pulling over her head a thin gold chain. His eyes narrowed, and then widened when she unclasped the hook, and looped it around his neck.

Leona-

She shushed him as she fastened it. "I will see you again, my friend." She reached up to touch his face again, and then took another deep breath as she felt her hands start to shake. "Goodbye," she whispered. She got up quickly and walked to the door, shutting it behind her.

Mrs. Kingsley still stood outside, and Leona grabbed her arm and walked her a little away from the door to whisper urgently, "I don't want him to leave that room. Please. I'll go out and meet the men- they won't come here, but I don't want him going to them. Understand?"

Mrs. Kingsley gripped Leona's own arm in return, puzzled, worried. "I- yes, but what are you-"

Leona shook her head sadly. Then she smiled a little. "I can't let him die, knowing that he never had a chance to live," she whispered. "You were right. I can't be selfish anymore- I have to give him his right as a human being. To live, love-" Leona cut off to turn away, but Mrs. Kingsley turned her back around.

"What right? What are you saying? Why would he die?"

Leona closed her eyes for a moment. "He killed a man tonight," she whispered. "And there was a witness. Who lived."

Mrs. Kingsley was in enough shock to let Leona go. Leona started dashing down the hallway, startled when a strong grip pulled her back.

Leona was but five feet from the door; she turned around to yell at Mrs. Kingsley to let her go when the woman asked sharply, "So why do you go? What good can you do?"

Leona struggled free. "I can turn him into a fairy tale!" she cried.

Mrs. Kingsley stepped back a few steps, eyes wide, as Leona flung open the door. Night air rushed in to swirl her skirts and push her cap off her head. Her hair went flying about her, mixing with the flurries that poured in behind her. "They can't kill fictional monsters, Mrs. Kingsley. Only reality can do that."

Mrs. Kingsley shook her head, "But how! What about the body! How can they believe you with proof-"

She stopped cold at Leona's small smile. "I love him. I've lived my life; I've nothing left but him. I can't go on, if he is no longer here, with me. He still has a chance- he has you. He needs this life more than I ever would." Leona laughed harshly. "Barmaids never triumph over princes!" she shouted as she stepped out into the snow.

She heard Mrs. Kingsley's shrill cry of, "No!" as Leona let the wind slam the door shut behind her.

#  Chapter 8

Leona turned to face the wind, shivering, feeling the icy blasts of snow on her face like pinpricks. She saw the torches in the distance, coming fast, yet they offered no hope of warmth. She walked all the way to the palace gates to meet them, determined to hold her spine straight. She wouldn't let them see her cry- wouldn't let them see that she was shaking down to her very core. She was so terrified she could hardly move, but she made herself, because she had to.

The pitiful doctor was in the lead. He ran, eyes raging, finger pointing, at her. "There! She was there! She saw it all!"

Leona narrowed her eyes. Her head snapped away from the doctor to Mr. Bradley when he spoke.

"Is it true? He exists?"

Leona narrowed her lips. She stood straighter. "I'd tell you he did if I could."

Mr. Bradley narrowed his eyes. Mr. Green stood directly behind him. The two men were not a part of the castle- they worked for the prince, but they had never once stepped foot inside of the palace. They wouldn't know the beast; who did? Why would the Prince ever claim him now, a murderer, as his overlord?

She could still fix this. She had to.

"What does that mean?" Mr. Bradley hissed. "A man is dead, woman, and you stand there playing games!"

Leona curled her lip. She said, loud and clear for every man in the mob to hear, "I'm not ashamed of what I did! I needed money! I was released from prison and my mother was sick, starving! I called for the doctor, and he refused- so I made Destin come out to help me, and he said no!" she started shaking, fists curled. They would never know it was from fear, not rage. "I killed him," she said between her teeth. "I bashed his head against the wall, made him suffer for rejecting, humiliating...starving me! And you!" she pointed to the doctor. "You pitiful fool! I threatened him," she said to Mr. Bradley. "Told him that if he told a soul I would do the same to him. And then he ran!" Leona approached the doctor, hand raised like claws, ready to rip his throat out.

Her anger was real. She hated this little man- hated him for ruining her life and denying her happiness. She leapt on him, strangling him, freed by the chance to set loose her anger in public, finally able to express her emotions without worry of consequences. She was already dead. What did it matter?

Mr. Green and two other men dragged her off the poor doctor kicking and screaming. She glared at them all, pure murder in her eyes, held by both arms. The doctor lay panting in the snow, staring up at her with confused, terrified eyes. Mr. Bradley stood in front of her, eyes cold, and slapped her hard across the face. She felt blood in her mouth.

"Get a hold of yourself!" he shouted.

She clamped her lips shut. He stared at her hard. "My mother died because of him," she snarled. "And then he comes to you, crying beast." She narrowed her eyes. "You won't find any beast here, Mr. Bradley, except me."

Mr. Bradley snorted. "I have no doubt about that, Miss Winters," he said icily, and then motioned for her to be taken away.

She was bound at the wrists and dumped into a cart, head swimming with pain as it bumped against the side. She gritted her teeth and sat back, ignoring the condescending glares. She moved her eyes up to the castle, fighting her tears, trying to take strength in the faint light burning in the ground floor window. Her eyes fixed on that light and stayed to it, determined to accept only its light as her reality. She felt her heart ache as it faded farther and farther away, spinning her into bleak darkness. As the last view faded, her eyes no longer able to strain past the treetops, three words whispered through her head.

He's alive.

Knowing that, she was able to keep her back straight and her tears at bay. But she wasn't able to stop her entire body from shaking with cold, exhaustion...and fear. At least he was safe. God, at least she would die knowing that she hadn't condemned him.

Leona had nowhere else to look now, as she was wheeled faster and faster toward the town jail. It was nearing day; they would place her in isolation, she knew, until the sun rose, and her trial could commence.

Her lips trembled, but she could barely feel them. The icy wind tore holes in her skin, burning to her bones. Her wrists ached unbearably behind her, arms sore and stiff, legs cramping in her position. She looked above her, trying to see the stars through the tips of the trees, but they were not there. Once more a painful lump tried to break free, but she couldn't. She just couldn't let them know of her fear, of her sadness.

She took several deep breaths to steady herself, trying to take comfort at least, knowing she could see the glow of the moon, just barely, through the thick fog that shrouded her. They reached town with loud grumbles and shouts, and suddenly she was tossed about in the wagon as it lurched to a halt, her head once more spinning as it slammed against the side. Still dizzy, she was yanked by the rope at her wrists down to the ground, making her cry out in pain, unable to help it, as her stiff muscles were shredded into movement.

She bit her lip to keep from crying out again, holding her breath to keep it from releasing tears upon its exhale. She was shoved forward, and she stumbled, falling to her knees in the snow. She winced as they hit the ice, and on her lip she tasted blood. Despair lurching inside of her, she rose slowly to her feet, trying to keep her dignity as best she could. She knew it did not matter to them, whether she cried out in mercy or snarled in fury, but to her, it was all she had left, to at least go knowing she did right, knowing that all she suffered now was a very small price to pay for the blood shed, the hardship endured that could have all been avoided has she not been so blind.

Still, as she walked through the jeering crowd toward the iron-barred windows of the jail, she felt their words and glares more scathingly than the cold night chill. The door was opened and in she was pushed, closing her eyes in misery as the door clicked shut, the key turned, and Mr. Bradley walked away, chuckling, behind her.

She stood still in the small room, her nose twitching with the rank smell of sweat, vomit, and rot surrounding her. The cell was cold, unheated, just a few degrees warmer than the night air. When she opened her eyes she realized that it was not much different than the cell the beast had been in, that far away day.

She felt the tears in her eyes as she wondered, helplessly, of why he had been there, of how he was doing, if he even knew where she was. Eyes heavy with dread, she walked to the window, staring out of the bars, face drenched in moonlight. Her mouth opened as she spotted one tiny tip of a tower, flag blowing steadily in the mountain air.

A strangled cry escaped her throat, and she fell backward against the nearest wall, letting herself slide down to the dirt bottom. Her feet still danced in the moon's pale glow, but her face, her eyes, were shrouded in darkness. She stared before her, seeing wicked shapes in the pitch darkness, her mind slowly turning as her situation dawned.

She was going to die.

She was alone. So utterly, miserably alone. She had no one left, save the one being that could never sit with her in her final hours. She thought of his warm embrace, thought of his wild roar as he stormed through the village in her pursuit. He would bash down the door, eyes wild, teeth bared in frustration. She would cry out his name, and he would reach for her, sweeping her up into his warmth, forever lifting her from this pain.

She knew she had saved him. She knew, deep in her heart, that she had done right, feeling every inch her love now that she knew it was there. She ached for him, ached in loneliness and want. And she felt desperate. She wished so badly that she could just confess, that she could explain, it had all been a mistake, all just a bad dream, and they would believe. They would smile at her and everything would be all right- she would go back to the palace and live day and night with the beast at her side. She felt the injustice of the cruelty upon her, felt her impending death with fear and unfairness.

Whatever else her faults, she did not deserve death- however her part had led the beast to that cottage, led Destin to the beast...surely she did not deserve to die for it? But neither did the beast- no one did! Yet here she was, alone, cold, hungry, back to her same fate. Perhaps it was just her destiny to die. The beast had given her a few short weeks, had given her borrowed time. But now it must be. Now she must fly away, into her mother's paradise.

But she wasn't ready!

For all her bravado and hope, she didn't want to die. She just wanted to live. She wanted to rise the next day and watch the sun climb with her, wanted to lay down to sleep just as the sun retired as well. She wanted to find a man to love, wanted to have babies, wanted to grow old....

She looked at the tower out through the bars. So this was it. As the moonlight played with her face, glinting off her icy tears, illuminating her body's frantic shivering, she knew. It could never be. She didn't want to die, but to live her life with the beast, a barmaid forever trapped in that castle...what life was that? They may love, but how could they be?

She sniffed, closing her eyes against the sight. No. She could never think those things.

Her head bowed, she let her fantasies once more cloud into her mind, drifting her off into a hazy world free of the nightmares of real life.

### Chapter 9

Leona's eyes darted open when she heard the sound of a heavy lock turning. She hadn't slept well at all. Her thoughts had been too near the surface, her fear too great, to allow her much rest. She winced when she realized, however, that during the hours she had spent immobile, her muscles had once more frozen themselves. As her eyes blinked rapidly to adjust to the soft morning light, she held her breath a moment, realizing that this was her last sunrise. This was the last light of day she would ever see again.

She almost cried out in relief to see that it was Mr. Green, and not Mr. Bradley, that had come to claim the prisoner.

She looked up at him with empty eyes. "My muscles have frozen stiff," she said in a low, flat voice.

Mr. Green's lips thinned. He walked over to her, however, and pulled her up, carefully. She tried not to cry out at the pain. Her breath came rapidly, however, and Mr. Green held her for a moment, letting her try and adjust.

She could not look at him, could not even thank him for this small kindness. It was he who spoke, spoke words she had never again thought to hear.

"You know I would have given anything for you, Leona," he whispered.

Leona closed her eyes in pain, whispering, "Lewis-"

"Don't. You made your choice."

Leona opened her eyes, and suddenly Lewis Green let go of her, letting her stand on her own. Leona stared into his eyes, for the first time in years seeing her old friend, instead of the hardened man his twin's death had left him. "It would never have been right, Lewis, after Gerry died. He would have given me everything too. And I never would have given either of you anything."

Lewis looked hopeless. "I can't let you do this, Leona. To die for a beast! Destin was my best friend- and I know you didn't hurt anybody!"

Leona's eyes hardened. "You know a girl who died a long time ago, Mr. Green. Beasts are nothing but fictional characters, made up in the mind's eye to excuse our faults. Don't try and excuse mine, Mr. Green. I killed him, and I will die for it."

Lewis Green once more flattened his stare, letting his thoughts become unreadable, retreating once more into himself. They had long ago let go of their lives together, long ago stopped pretending that it didn't matter who they were. Children grow up, and with the two standing in the cold cell, that time had left them bitter and estranged.

Mr. Green grabbed Leona's arm, propelling her forward, all time for talk long past. He led her to a high platform in the town center, and a shiver ran down her spine as her wide eyes saw the heavy rope of the noose as it hung, limply, at the platform's center. Her feet felt like lead as she tried to put one in front of the other, her eyes never straying from that rope.

Mr. Bradley waited with a Bible next to it, face set in stone. Hands still tied behind her back, filthy, dress torn, hair swinging wildly in the bitter air, Leona Winters took the platform, and stood tall. Her stomach felt so empty, bile swam around making her nauseous, but she couldn't have eaten had anything been brought to her. Her entire body shook with cold and fear, but her eyes stayed empty, unable to focus, not daring to look down and see the crowd's scornful, hateful faces.

Still she stood, defiantly, unwilling to shed her dignity in her last, merciless breaths. Leona tried not to let her eyes close in pain or weariness, or let her knees buckle in sheer dread.

Mr. Bradley's voice spoke loudly, carried over the wind. "Leona Winters, you have been accused of murdering Destin Slenger. Did you kill him?"

Leona knew it was pointless to ask, with her confession, but she didn't care. Voice soft, strong, she said, "I did."

Mr. Bradley faced her solemnly. "Then you shall hang."

Leona's heart beat wildly. The rope was placed unceremoniously around her neck, her feet pushed to rest above the rickety trap door. Her eyes became wild with fear again, her breath rapid, hands clenched into fists. She grit her teeth, this is it whispering through her head.

The trap door creaked with her weight, and she saw with a sinking heart, and a wrenched out breath, that Lewis would be the one to pull it free. She stared at him, his eyes wavering with emotion, one hand resting on the lever.

Her lips parted. The noose was heavy on her neck and shoulders, and she clenched her jaw to keep from screaming in fright. Too sick to watch, she frantically darted her eyes away from her old friend, feeling bile pump her stomach and tears slide down her filthy cheeks. Body stiff with her emotion, she closed her now trembling lips, and looked to the sky.

God, please.

Sniffling beyond control, eyes now wet beyond sight, she said her final prayers, her final goodbyes. The platform shuddered, and with a plummeting stomach and wrenched breath, she shut her eyes tight as- as-

She heard a woman scream.

Men were shouting, her ears were ringing- yet she felt no pain. Gasping, out of her mind with fright, she opened her eyes. She looked down. Her feet were still firmly on the wood floor. Momentarily flooded with relief, she gave a hysterical bark of laughter, knees going weak. Then she realized that the murmurs and shouts had not quieted.

She looked up through blurry, tear-stained eyes, and they went wide with shock. Her lips opened wordlessly, her heart beating freshly and rakishly. She didn't dare believe her eyes- it didn't make sense, nothing made sense- what-

"LEONA!"

Her prince. Riding furiously, eyes wild with fear, was the most handsome man she'd ever seen, bareback on a snow-white mare, nostrils blowing out silver clouds in the chill air. His wild brown hair flowed out behind him, face pink with rage and cold, hands gripping the hair of the horse so tight with hands so strong....

He was wearing a large fur cloak, draped around him like a toga, flapping in the wind as he rode to...her rescue?

Her eyebrows came together. Still in shock, she couldn't quite believe that not only was she alive, but- but this man- he was calling out-

"Unhand her! Release her immediately!" In a deep, rich voice, thickened by a heavy accent.

Or was it- was it strange to think that it sounded as if he had almost forgotten how to speak?

As he neared, his words becoming clearer and clearer, she realized it was not an accent but a rough, strangled way of speaking, as if his mouth had difficulty sounding out the words. The horse skidded to a halt ten feet from the platform, at the edge of the crowd, and wordlessly, the people parted to let him through, encircling him again as he made his way forward, eyes intently set on her.

Her lips tried to move, but nothing came out, and then suddenly he was there, by her side. He quickly took the noose from her neck, hands grasping her arms to keep her from falling, her knees were so weak. He inspected her, eyes running over her frame, searching for damage. She stared into his earth-colored eyes, unable to move.

He truly was incredible. Full lips set sternly, fine brows drawn together in thought, strong neck-

Her hands shook. She gasped, and suddenly her eyes flew to the cape, and when she saw- saw the head, a shrill ringing sounded inside of her.

Mr. Bradley had just recovered behind her, and suddenly shouted out, "Who are you!"

The man's eyes darted past Leona, to look at him, and then he set her free. Leona stumbled back a few steps, unable to move, heart and stomach pumping painfully. No, no, no, repeated over and over, and she held on, in shock, just to hear the words, praying it was just a trick, a cruel joke-

"I, Sir," replied the man, current of anger and disgust clear in his tone, "am Prince of this very kingdom. And this," he untied the arms of the cape, tossing it down at his feet, "is your beast."

The crowd gasped and murmured anew, but Leona didn't hear.

A whirling wind had shot through her mind, spilling forth angry, desperate tears, a strangled cry piercing the air from her constricted throat. Her knees gave way and she fell, hands falling into the rich waves of the beast's fur. Her body shook with sobs, eyes wide, mind numb. She stroked the soft fur, running her hands down the body, to the head, where in now gaping holes once glowed his eyes, his so familiar eyes. Her cries tumbled forth, and she twisted the fur around in her hands, trying desperately to feel a heartbeat, to somehow bring him back, to have his voice sound in her head and tell her- tell her-

"You murdered him!" she screamed, wretched shivers working through her body. Had she not been so weak she would have stood and strangled this man, this stranger that stood looking down upon her, shocked.

Instead she glared up with all of her hate and misery, glared with the full fury of the past hours, past days. He'd been speaking, and now, as she stared up, he stopped, mouth and Adam's apple working up and down.

Leona closed her eyes tight in pain, and she collapsed on top of the fur, crying, so miserable. She had him. He'd come for her. He'd saved her- and now he was gone. She had no one, nothing-

"This beast has gone too far. For too long I let him run free in my castle, so feared was I by his strength. But no more! This- this woman, she has saved my life. In her kindness, she sought to save the beast, save that miserable creature, and you would have tormented her! Your real killer is dead. I command you release this woman into my care. I will deal with her as I see fit. I command!" he rang out, eyes glaring at all that would challenge him, and in a flourish he produced a paper, stamped at the bottom, and sealed, with the royal emblem.

Mr. Bradley took it in shaking hands, throat working rapidly, muscle in his jaw twitching. Then he looked up at the- Prince\- and said stiffly, "Your Highness." Then he bowed.

Leona couldn't move. She was entirely empty, devoid of emotions. She had nothing. She didn't care as she was lifted up and carried to a carriage, placed inside, the door slammed shut. Her eyes stared blankly at the wall in front of her.

They took her back to the castle, back to the palace courtyard. She barely registered where she was led as she stepped from the carriage, and then in a blind flash of shock, she realized it was the same cell that the beast had stood in, the same cell where her journey at this castle had all begun. They shut it wordlessly behind her, and she stood, open-mouthed, staring at the backs of the men as they retreated.

Slowly, so slowly, she sank to her knees. And it hit her. Her beast was gone. In her mind, all that remained was a forgotten corpse, lying in the damp snow on the platform, cold, alone. And her tears came. Hot, liquid tears, flowing through her soul and down to the frozen cement.

All her life, all she'd ever dreamed of, was her prince. Her gorgeous prince on his white horse, screaming her name. And now that moment had come and gone, and all she felt was a deep, burning loneliness. Her dreams were gone. She'd finally found love, and it was gone. She'd risked her life, tried to die to save him, and still it had been no use.

She wrapped her arms around herself and cried out, "Oh God! I loved him! He was everything!"

She recalled her selfish thoughts of the night before, of how unfair it had seemed to die, of how she would have given anything to see one last day. And now she had it. She was alive, to see the sun set, to have her babies, to live her life. And it meant nothing. Because it had come at a price she had never been willing to give, a price more dear to her than any damn sunset- his life. It barely registered that she would never again hear his voice, never again see his eyes shine as he whispered dear one into her soul.

How could he? How could that damn prince do it! That beast had been everything! The beast had protected him, shrouded him from all lies and reality, and now this! So what? So that a barmaid could live?

"You shouldn't cry, dear Leona."

Leona gasped and scooted away from the voice, glaring, pressing against the wall and into the shadows. "How could you do it?" she rasped. "He was everything!"

The prince stood before her, the shadow of the bars lining his face, staring at her with nothing in his eyes. Her eyes strayed down to his neck, and she felt vomit rise to her throat.

"Take," she said between her teeth, "that off."

The Prince, startled, reached up to touch the small rose, dangling from the gold chain about his neck. He quickly looked back at Leona. "Why did you do it, Leona? Why did you save the beast?"

Leona's tears dried with her rage. "I loved him," she said acidly. Then she looked away.

The Prince took a long time to respond, and then he said hoarsely, "How could you love a beast?"

Leona's eyes softened in memory. "He was never a beast," she whispered.

She heard the door open, and saw his shadow, standing above her. He knelt down, and his hand reached out to touch her face. She jerked away.

"Look at me!"

Startled by the fierceness in his voice, when his hands yanked her face, she responded. She stared into his eyes, her own wide. He was scowling at her, and at the same time....

She frowned. "Your eyes," she whispered.

His own lit up, urged her to continue. "Yes," he breathed.

She reached up with a trembling hand, and then caught herself. Her eyes flattened as she curled her hand into a fist, and dropped it into her lap. Her lips pursed. "I don't know why you saved me, or how-" She took a breath, "how you could ever possibly have done..." her lips trembled, eyelashes wet with moisture, and she sniffed.

His hands slowly left her face, one thumb brushing at a tear before he retreated. He crouched still beside her, staring at her, and softly whispered, "I wanted nothing more, each day, every night, than to feel your soft skin, see my own in your eyes. To love you, so deeply, touch you..." his voice broke with emotion.

Leona stared at him, confused, and shook her head. "I never- how..." she took a breath and looked away, and then looked back at him. "I-" she swallowed. Her eyes narrowed and again she shook her head. "Then you should have realized that I loved the beast."

His eyes darkened. "The beast," he said sourly.

Leona's eyes filled with indignant rage. "Yes, him! The one that saved me from the cold, saved my mother from starving to death, took me in his arms, wanted to fight away my fears! The beast, as you call him, that I would have died for, because he would have done the very same thing for me!"

The Prince's eyes turned furious. "He never asked you to! Don't you think, this beast, who you claim was consumed with such love, would have rather been tortured to a thousand deaths than worry, than to even think for one moment that you suffered, that you would die, alone, hanged- Leona!" He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "I would have fought them for you! I would have died, it was my right! All I ever wanted was to save you, to see you happy! Can't you understand! Why couldn't you let me help you!"

Leona's eyes had widened again, her mouth agape. "I- I didn't-"

"Oh God, Leona," he crushed her to him, wrapped his arms around her, holding tight. "I would never have forgiven myself if anything had happened. I told you once that I would bathe in your tears, if only to stop them coming- oh my dear one, I would have died gladly in that wretched beast's body, if it would have saved your life!"

This time Leona jerked back. "What?" she whispered.

His hands wiped at her cheeks again, eyes searching. "I-"

"What did you say?" she demanded.

He shook his head. "You didn't have to protect me, Leona. Can't you see? When I woke to find out that you had left, that you had given yourself to save me, I went wild. I couldn't think- all I knew was that if I had to spend my life, even a human life, without you...I would rather have died that night."

Leona's brow creased, her mouth open in question. She stared. Again she felt that pull, that strange familiarity in this man's eyes, and this time...she widened her own. "That's not possible," she whispered.

He smiled brilliantly. "Oh God, how can you believe it isn't? You fell in love with a beast, Leona! You sit here, before me, because you loved...me."

Leona's eyes watered. "But how? I can't- how can it be you?" Her hands reached up to grip his face. "You're human," she whispered.

He laughed, and suddenly he lifted her up, took her into his arms, face lit up with joy. So many questions popped into her head, doubt, worry, relief, anger-

"I love you," he whispered. "I would have told you so many times, but always, all I saw, was my form reflected in your eyes. I couldn't stand to see it- I couldn't stand to know that you stood before me, always so close, yet never able to touch you.... That night, in the gardens, it hurt so bad to know that I couldn't take you into my arms and tell you I didn't care for her, for any other woman, explain it all-"

"Why?" Leona whispered. "What are you talking about?"

He smiled. " 'Noblest rose of true blood born, she alone will hear the curse, and with it lift him free.' Remember?"

Leona nodded silently.

"I was cursed, Leona, for my selfishness. For my cruelty, shallowness. For my inability to see past the appearance, and into the soul. I was a beast, Leona, and..." he sighed. "An old sorceress, she decided, that like the beast I was at heart, so I should become. I spent so many years, hiding, at first locked in a cage by Mrs. Kingsley, so confused and alone. And then you came. You heard me. You saw me...set me free. That night- I think I did die. I stopped seeing, could only hear you, heard you whisper your confessions...and felt...ashamed. Humiliated. For trying so hard to be human, letting my selfishness overwhelm even you, my dear one, and..." he shook his head, eyes dark. "I would have died for you. And then you were gone. I don't know what happened- but when I awoke, I was human, and...this was around my neck." He motioned to the rose.

Leona's mind was spinning. "That's- the old woman- she said..." Leona gasped. She covered her mouth with her hand. Her destiny. Her dreams. Her beast. Her eyes looked back at this man, her beast, and then laughed. She laughed so hard and so loud, smiling, eyes shining. "You're alive," she whispered.

He was alive. He was human. She could spend every day and every night with him, could bear his children, hold him in her arms. His warm, soft body cradled her gently, his eyes speaking of love and promises and heated nights. Tears once more came to her eyes, and she started crying, holding him tight.

"Leona," he whispered. "No, don't cry."

Leona shook her head against his neck. "I thought you were dead," she whispered. "I wanted to die. I would have- and the prince- you-"

He shushed her with a kiss to her temple, and her breath sucked in, feeling such a tender gesture.

"I just can't believe this is real," she whispered.

He chuckled. "Neither can I, Leona. Oh God, you have no idea how long I kept waiting for you to fade, watching you, just to make sure you weren't just some figment of my imagination. Perfect! How could such a perfect rose fall right into my lap?"

Leona shook her head wordlessly. She truly had nothing to say. How he made her feel so good...how he could see so much good in someone as simple as her... To have him. To be able to be with such an incredible man.

He put her back on her feet but held her close. "I'm a man again," he whispered.

Leona's throat went dry. She couldn't quite find the right words to reply- right then, her entire being was centered on intense heat of his gaze.

His eyes locked with hers, and tension flared, his increased breathing as he pulled her closer. "Leona," he whispered, and her eyelashes fluttered as he moved his lips to brush against the smoothness of her cheeks.

She shivered as he explored the feel of her skin, breathing in her scent, hands moving in wonder. Then, arms tightening in a crushing embrace, he murmured slightly, heatedly, and moved his lips to slightly brush against hers, testing the soft sensation as his hot breath mingled with her own. Leona groaned slightly and he responded immediately, lips ravaging hers with such a tender, passionate kiss that her knees were left weak, her heart scattering wildly.

My God her mind dragged free as she kissed him back forcefully and hungrily.

And that was how Mrs. Kingsley found them.

The old woman cleared her throat, and they separated, Leona hiding slightly within the comfort of the Prince's arms. She looked back at Mrs. Kingsley with swollen lips, cheeks blazing, even more so when she saw the half-smile on her face.

"They're waiting, Your Highness," Mrs. Kingsley said softly.

With puzzled eyes Leona opened her mouth, but the Prince replied before she got her question out.

"The courtiers. I've sent for them all, to let them know I've finally taken the crown...and a bride." He said the last tenderly, eyes sweeping over Leona, his hand cupping her face.

Leona's smile shone brilliant. She had everything. Everything in the world. Her heart panged as she realized that her mother had not lived to see it, her marriage to the prince she....

And then Leona gasped. "My prince," she whispered. He frowned, and Leona laughed suddenly. "My mother, in the cottage, she called you...my prince. I don't know how she..."

He just shook his head. Leona understood. With all that was happening, had happened, what was one more unexplained mystery?

Leona sighed happily. She had her life. He was her life. He'd saved her, just as much as she'd saved him. They both needed each other, but now, thanks to fate and a small dash of luck...they could enjoy that need together forever.

# THE END

