Page 74 of The Beauty and the Griffin

Heat rolled into my face. “Oh!” I tried not to wince. “Well, crying while singing a hymn may be therapeutic to the spirit, but it impairs my sight-reading, for sure.”

“To my ears, your music was genuine and lovely. I expect the Almighty appreciated it even more.”

“Thank you.” What else could I say?

After a silent blessing, I began eating, but I had so many questions! Trying not to sound worried, I first asked, “Do you know if Dodger and Win arrived safely at Faraway Castle?”

“They arrived at the enemy’s camp in early afternoon.”

My heart plunged. “Oh no!”

“Don’t worry. Win ordered Dodger to carry her into battle, but not even the Mirror could persuade him to join the rebellion. Thanks to Bogdan’s training, he managed to grab Win and escape the enemy’s control. They are now safely in the mountains with Kai, Princess Eddi, and their winged horses.”

“Win must be furious,” I guessed.

“No doubt, but Dodger has figured out how to manage her. He may not be the Golden Griffin, but he’s a hero in his own right.”

“Oh, my dear sweet boy!” I slumped back in my chair. “And are they safe? Eddi and the others, I mean.”

After a brief pause, he said, “You needn’t fear for your loved ones, Beatrice. Our allies will prevail.”

I nodded, picking at my food. I didn’t usually feel self-conscious in his presence, but something had changed. “My maids laid out this fancy outfit, and I didn’t want to disappoint them,” I blurted before thinking it through.

“You are always beautiful, Beatrice. Your kind, loyal, tenacious spirit outshines any clothing you might wear.”

I closed my eyes, feeling simultaneously a surge of joy and a wave of panic. “Thank you,” I managed to whisper. Would he ask again? What should I do? Earlier I’d been upset that he’d stopped asking, but now . . .

His voice was so deep and quiet that I barely heard the words: “Dearest Beatrice, will you marry me?”

My fingernails dug into my palms, and my chest felt as though it might burst of panic. “Oh, no! I . . . I cannot! I do care dearly for you, but I cannot marry a Beast!”

In the silence following my outburst, his sorrow was almost palpable. Ever so slowly he rose from his chair. “Then I must leave you now. Grace and peace to you, my dearest love.”

With those words, he was gone.

Shock pinned me to my chair. That farewell had sounded almost . . . final. “Oh, dear Gamekeeper,” I whispered.

My eyes were dry, and my heart was cold as I returned to my room. While climbing the marble staircase, I wondered if these were the very stairs Niel had descended when I first saw him. If so—and I was fairly sure of it—somewhere down one of those dark halls was the ballroom. I didn’t want to see it or the library; I didn’t want to see the garden or the unicorn fountain, wherever those places might have been. I didn’t want to relive those dreams.

When Win’s story of the Beast slaughtering everyone in the palace—including the beautiful king—flashed through my mind, I felt too numb to fear the shadows.

Chicky joined me on the stairs so smoothly that I didn’t react. “Beeetrice is sad. I will help you feel better,” she said, sounding determined.

“I don’t want to dream of Niel again.”

“No dream,” she agreed cheerfully. “Beeetrice needs her happy ending.”

As if that were possible.

A fire crackled on the hearth in my bedchamber as we entered. To me, the room felt like a refuge. The whole palace was my refuge.

The Gamekeeper had sounded positive about the future and safety of Faraway Castle, so surely the Forbidden Palace would also be safe, and all would soon return to normal.

While Chicky headed for the hearth, I stood before the wardrobe mirror and loosened my hair, watching it ripple over my shoulders with gold and bronze highlights. I had never thought of myself as a beauty—few men had ever noticed me when Princess Eddi was around—yet my reflection showed me a young woman who might pass for a screen siren of nearly a century ago, back when Niel had been young and gorgeous and so very alive.

While standing there, I admitted, if only to myself, that I’d worn the lovely jumpsuit to dinner just in case my Beast showed up. And then I’d rudely turned down his marriage proposal. Again. I was the selfish beast of this story, striving to be beautiful in the eyes of a person whose marriage proposals I consistently rejected.

I didn’twantto break his heart—I loved him dearly. But how could I marry a Beast?

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