Page 9 of Beauty and Her Beasts (Dirty Paranormal Fairytale Haremlan 1)

“You only tell me this every day,” I added and burst out in a chuckle of my own as I imagined my younger self pushing back against those kids.

Soon, we arrived back at the cottage where I followed my father inside. I headed for my room and grabbed my bags, placed them at the door, and checked the time. The carriage would arrive within minutes.

My heart skipped a beat. My emotions warred within me again. I wanted to desperately embark on this journey. I wanted to get out of this god-forsaken town and see more of the world. But I also couldn’t stand the idea of leaving my father behind.

It was a conundrum, for sure.

“Tea while you wait?” Papa asked, holding out a cup toward me.

I took the cup and smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re still worried?” he asked, sounding a little surprised.

I shook my head. “Not about leaving. It was never about that. I think it was the idea of leaving you behind. Almost like I’m abandoning you.”

“You are not abandoning me,” he said. “Besides, I did fine while you attended college.”

“Yes, true. But I also was able to come home on breaks. I can’t do that here. It’s too far away and I worry that you’ll fall ill and not have anyone here to take care of you.”

Papa leveled his gaze on mine and his face became a mask of stern seriousness. “It isn’t your job to take care of me. I’m a grown man and can manage on my own. Allow me the joy of seeing my daughter embark on a life of her own.”

I sighed and took a sip of my tea. “Okay, Papa.”

“And enough of this nonsense you won’t be able to visit. Of course, you will. You’ll see to that.” His mask cracked into a soft smile. “The holidays are coming up and I know you’ll find a way for us to share them.”

I wrapped my arm around him and leaned my head on his shoulder. “I love you, Papa.”

“I love you too,ma belle fille.”

A horn sounded from outside the door. I turned my attention toward the direction, peering through the glass oval taking up the center of the door. A small orange light hovered on a shadow-covered carriage parked in front of the cottage.

“It’s time,” Papa said.

I faced him and nodded. “Okay, Papa.”

“I will help you with your things,” he said and started to pick up a couple of my bags.

“Thank you, Papa,” I said, grateful he was giving me a few final moments with him. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. I didn’t want to leave him behind, and no matter how much he tried to reassure me, the feeling of leaving him alone for the rest of his life wouldn’t leave me.

It was more than anxieties of starting new. This was so much more. Sort of like a hit of intuition that settles on the shoulder and never goes away.

I picked up the last bag and cast my gaze around the home I grew up in. The home which had sheltered me, provided loving, warm memories, and gave me peace. I had no idea what lay in front of me going forward, but I had all the memories to keep me moving.

With a wistful sigh, I followed my father out to the carriage where the driver waited. He took the bags from me and my father and sat them in the back of the carriage in the luggage cart. The driver opened the door next and gestured for me to step inside.

I sighed as I faced my father one last time. I tried to force as much excitement in my voice as I could muster, but my heart wasn’t in it. “This is it.”

“Indeed,” he said. “Will you send word when you arrive, so I know you made it in one piece?”

“I promise,” I said and hugged him one last time.

“Be safe,” he said as he pulled away from me. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Papa,” I said as I tried to force down the lump in my throat. I blinked away the tears stabbing at them as I climbed into the carriage and settled in on the seat. The door closed. I leaned forward, resting my hand on the opening. My father waved at me as the whip from the driver snapped and the horses neighed in protest, pulling the carriage forward. The second I could no longer see Papa through the window in the door, I twisted around and faced the one taking up the upper portion of the back of the carriage.

He stood in the yard, just inside the gate, watching as I faded from sight. I tried to commit this moment to memory. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his sweater, and his lips were stretched into a proud grin that he always showed me. I waved one last time, shoving my arm out the window just as we rounded a curve heading for theDusangForrest.

Still, I tried to keep looking back until all I could see were trees and shadows and moonlight. When I finally sat in the seat, facing the front of the carriage, I softly cried. No matter what I did, I feared this was the last time I would see my father. It might have seemed silly, but he was the only thing I had left in the world, and a part of me always wanted him close by.

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