Page 13 of The Beast Between Us
Oswin’s expression shifts…thoughtful, a touch wary. “’Tis difficult to say, Miss Ella. Both yes… and no. They are of one body, but two minds. Sometimes at war. Sometimes in uneasy peace.”
“Seems difficult,” I murmur.
“Aye,” he nods. “For all of us.”
With a final dip of his head, Oswin steps out and closes the door behind him.
“Okay,” I murmur to the empty room. “Let’s see if I can clean up before dinner.”
The hem of my skirt is still damp and stained from the long walk to the castle. My clothes are far from suitable for dining with someone like Mr. Evermere…but I can at least try to look presentable. Put together. Not broken.
It’s a small thing.
But in a world like this, sometimes the small things are all we have.
Removing my clothes sends a fresh jolt of pain through my side and back, sharper now without the dull pressure of fabric. I wince, but I don’t stop.
The pain will fade…eventually. But a first impression? That’s a one-time chance.
And I refuse to waste it.
Thankfully, a large basin of water sits waiting in the washroom.
How kind.
I dip the hem of my skirt into the water, working slowly with the scrubber and soap. It isn’t perfect, but I clean it as best I can before hanging it to dry.
While the skirt drips quietly by the window, I take a moment to look around the room.
It’s grand…far grander than anything I’ve ever known. High ceilings, tall windows with velvet curtains, carved wooden trim along the walls. A small fire crackles in the hearth, more for comfort than heat. The air smells faintly of lavender and old stone.
Still, despite the richness, the room feels… hollow. Like it hasn’t truly belonged to anyone in a very long time.
My thoughts drift back to him.
ToMr. Evermere. To the Beast.
He’s not what I expected.
Not a monster, not entirely. But not fully a man either.
He’s tall…unnaturally so…and broad, his frame stretched by the shift that froze halfway through. One arm is more beast than human, clawed and furred; his shoulders are uneven, one hunched as though carrying weight no one else can see. His face… I struggle to describe it. There’s nobility in his jawline, intelligence in his eyes, but part of his mouth doesn’t sit right, pulled slightly by something animal beneath.
And yet he speaks like a man. Moves like one, even when the shadows ripple unnaturally around him.
He didn’t frighten me.
Not the way my father did.
No… Mr Evermere is something else entirely.
Something powerful. And broken.
Just like this place.
Just like me.
I ease down onto the edge of the bed, careful of my side.
