Chapter Twelve

 

            Rayven sighed as he watched Beauty in the gardens; she sat on a white marble bench with her legs tucked beneath her, reading a poetry book that he had found for her the day prior.  A wealth of summertime daisies danced around her as a playful breeze drifted through, tossing strands of auburn hair about her face gently.  The warm sunlight of the late afternoon warmed her, flushing her cheeks a fetching pink.  The mint-green gown she wore set off her color admirably and contrasted softly with the white flowers and dark foliage.

            His heart panged sharply as her light laughter washed over him, an amusing lyric of some ancient poem catching her fancy.  She was so young and beautiful, so full of light… such a contrast to his dark form and moods.  He didn’t deserve her, never had… even as a young lord with lands and a castle to his credit, he had never wanted to settle down but preferred to flit from girl to girl.  He made no promises and never dreamed he would want to be with one woman and one only.  But now…

            She didn’t belong in his world of black corridors and breaking hearts… she belonged with her family in the real world.  He had thought out such things ever since their night together in his rooms almost a week ago.  She had spent every night since, laying in his arms, although he had not allowed himself the luxury of taking her again.  He was content to capture his rest with her delicate frame in his embrace.

            She’d never said as much, but he knew she must miss her family terribly… every so often he would catch a hint of unguarded sadness in her eyes.  He knew she must wonder at what was happening in their lives without her and had kept an eye on them just in case any crises arose that she should know about.

            Now… one had.

            He had sought a vision that morning, hoping to find Henry, Alice, and Elizabeth Whittbourne all well and good.  However, Henry, Beauty’s beloved father, had taken ill… some strain of the flu to Rayven’s figuring.  The two remaining sisters were desperately trying to help him… but neither knew herbs well enough and the closest doctor was a three day journey away.  Both kept repeating that Beauty would know what to do… Beauty would fix everything… if only Beauty were there…

            Rayven sighed again, the hollow pain in his chest increasing.  Her father needed her… he would die without treatment.  He had to send his heart and soul back to where he had taken her from.  He had never deserved her and now her family needed her.

            Besides, he was no longer a nobleman with title, lands, and wealth to offer her… only a beast who could only offer dark imprisonment and his unworthy love.  She belonged in the world of men… where he could not follow.

 

@>----,------‘----------------,--------

 

            Beauty looked up as Rayven approached on silent feet, her breath catching in her throat.  Lord, he was so powerful and muscular, so beautiful.  The sunlight gleamed off of his fur, highlighting it a bright white on contact.  He had forgone the heavy tunic he normally donned in favor of a light shirt of ivory silk along with the black hose and boots he always wore.

            He bowed at the waist, taking her hand in his and raising it to his mouth for a brief but fervent kiss.  “Good afternoon, my Beauty.”

            “Afternoon already?  Goodness, I’ve been out here since this morning!  No wonder my legs ache.” She laughed at herself, slipping her legs to a more proper position as Rayven sat uneasily next to her.

            Under normal circumstances, he would have laughed along with her or teased her about her habit of losing track of the time, but today he merely nodded and stared at the tiled walkway intensely.

            “Rayven, love… is something bothering you?” she asked, covering his shoulder with a concerned hand.

            “I’m afraid there is, my love.” He nodded, finally looking at her.  Beauty could see the worry in his emerald green eyes and her heart skipped a beat… what was he going to tell her? 

            “What is it?” she prodded.

            “It’s your family.”

            “My family?  How can you know anything about my family?”

            “It’s one advantage to my enchantment… I have some minimal abilities with magic.  I can see your family occasionally… to make certain that they’re doing well.  I saw them earlier this morning and…” he paused, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat.

            “And?” Beauty asked, clutching his sleeve, alarmed by the pain relevant in his eyes and the catch in his voice.

            “Your father… he’s very sick… and your sisters don’t know what to do.  They need you Beauty.  I fear your father may die if you don’t go home and take care of him.” He finally admitted, never lifting his eyes from the seat of the bench.

            “You mean… I can go home?  For a visit?” she asked, uncertain as to Rayven’s exact meaning.

            “No… not for a visit, my love.  Permanently.  I had no right to order you here and I want to… set things right, I suppose.” He explained.

            “But, Rayven, I love you!  I don’t want to leave you here!” she protested.  “I’ll go and I’ll take care of father… then I’ll come back to you.”

            “Beauty, please… you belong with them… I belong here, alone with my fate.” He shook his head.

            “But the spell!  You said that you need me to break it!” she insisted.

            “I do need you to break it… but that’s not important now… getting you home to care for your father is.  If you leave now, you can make it there before nightfall… Apple knows the way by now I should think.” Rayven calmed her with a hug.

            On cue, several raccoons led the huge stallion towards Beauty, his saddlebags heavy with what she assumed were her belongings.  Too shocked to say anything, Beauty let Rayven pick her up and deposit her on the saddle, his embrace tender.

            “Rayven… I-I don’t know what to say.” She whimpered, frightened suddenly by the prospect of leaving his loving arms.

            “Don’t say anything then.” He replied concisely, gripping her hand tight within his and slipping something within.  “Take this with you.”

            Beauty opened her hand to find one of the yellow roses resting innocently against her fingers, which were now trembling.

            “Rayven!”

            “Hush… it’s only one day… what’s one day to me now?  Besides there’s no use scolding me for it now.” Rayven sighed.

            “What sort of talk is this?  I love you and I will break this spell no matter what happens.” Beauty declared, leaning over to embrace Rayven around his neck.

            “What will be, will be, my love.  Go now… each second you delay, your father slips further into sickness.” He urged, patting Apple on the rump to send the horse into a canter.

            “I love you, Rayven!  I’ll come back as soon as father is well!” Beauty called over her shoulder as the gates opened, letting her into the forest.

            Rayven watched with tears gathering in his eyes as the dying sunlight glinted orange off of her hair before disappearing from sight.

            “No… you will not, my love.” He whispered, his heart tearing into dozens of pieces, each one forming the words of the spell he knew he must cast.

 

            Beauty Whittbourne, hear this rhyme

            Hear my voice this one last time

            Forget what happened, the beast from a cave

            Forget it all, not ‘til the grave

            There was no castle, no servants, no rose

            Live on your life, however it goes

 

There, it was done.  Beauty would remember nothing of the past months she had spent in the enchanted castle.  She would forget all about Shannon and Matty, their scene from Romeo and Juliet, the recent nights she’d spent in his bed with nothing but love between them.  If she remembered anything, it would seem as nothing more than a vague dream, like one remembers a nightmare from childhood.  Her family might wonder at her amnesia at first, but they would be too happy at her return to press at it.  They would think only that she preferred not to remember it, if they chose to wonder at it at all.

Tears finally fell as the sun filled the sky with its last red fires of the day, falling gently over the smooth, fur-covered cheek and dropped to the ground.

“Goodbye, Beauty… I will love you to my last breath…” he spoke aloud, unable to remain silent with his grief. 

 

 

On to Chapter Thirteen

 

Back to Chapter Eleven

 

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