Page 42 of Beauty Reborn
“I’m unfamiliar with either,” Beast admitted.
I lowered myself to the edge of the stage, dangling my legs above the grass. “Did you never hear the priests read scripture at church?”
“We had no church.”
How Father would have wept to hear it.
“Do you believe in God, then?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure what such a thing means.”
I was the worst to explain it. I did not know my own beliefs.
“Creation. Heaven and hell.” I grasped unsuccessfully, my cheeks growing hotter. Father would have been ashamed. “Life after death.”
Beast considered. I restrained myself from dumping more unclarity.
“Life after death sounds like a second chance,” he said quietly. “I’d like to believe in that.”
It stilled my thumping heart.
“Me too,” I whispered.
“Will you marry me, Beauty?”
“Alas!” I heaved a sigh. “I am far too busy. There’s a festival in town, you know. Perhaps you could ask again tomorrow.”
“Rest assured, I will.”
We laughed again. As I braced myself to jump from the stage, Beast offered me a hand.
I took it and jumped.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked.
I looked at my hand. There was a thin, white scratch at the base of my pointer finger, but I hadn’t felt it. He was so fearful to cause pain in even the small things.
“You would never hurt me,” I said, curling my fingers. “Come, we’ll miss the archery tournament!”
We wasted our day at an imaginary festival, lost in whimsy. The impressive Sir Charles bested me in archery. My single shot did not even make contact with the target, which was the closest to gold anyone could hope to come except for Sir Charles, who improved my shot by a mere inch.
Sir Charles also took the prize in jousting, which Beast and I declined to participate in because I lacked a sufficient coat of arms and he was the presiding royalty, obligated to serve as an unbiased judge.
By the end of the day, Beast grew hungry enough to eat a leg of lamb, though he was still so shy that he made me agree to look away. I sampled almost every snack the enchantments had to offer, but nothing impressed me more than the pear. I returned for two more before the sun began to set.
As the light faded, the tents rolled their walls and toppled their poles. The wares faded until, at last, it was only an empty field.
“I miss it already,” Beast said.
“Then you have truly been to a festival.”
“Thank you.”
My ears flamed. I started to tell him it was a matter of no consequence, but I couldn’t. It was certainly of consequence to me.
Something bothered my nose. In the absence of festival foods, a murky scent weighted the air. I turned toward the forest, and in the last remaining light, I saw a mass of gray above the treetops.
“Fire,” Beast said quietly, his gaze in the same direction as mine.
