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“I have been thinking,” he says, his low voice rumbling through the terrarium.
I straighten up, my face hot and my heart fluttering. His scent is in the air now, and it is more noticeable to me than the aroma of the flowers.
“Yes?” I say, trying to keep my voice light.
I walk down the row, feeling him move with me and resisting a strong urge to turn and see his face. He feels human when we are together, and I want to know what he looks like, but I have to obey him. He feels like…I do not wish to think of that.
“You can write a note,” he says. “And I’ll ask the magic if it will deliver it.”
A note?
“To my father?” I dare to breathe and before I can regret the clarification he breathes, “yes.”
I stop, blinking hard as tears come to my eyes. I did not expect him to let me do this. I thought it would only come after many years of proving myself to him.
“I thought,” I begin, my throat dry. “I thought the magic was only at the gate. I thought it was only here with you, at the castle.”
“Do not underestimate what magic can do,” the beast answers, and did I imagine it or is there a hint of amusement in his voice?
“How do you know if the magic will deliver the note?”
“There is no way of knowing,” he answers, and then a piece of paper and a pen float over to me.
I did not expect to write to my father today, but I have thought about what I might say. The choices seemed endless at first. There was too much to tell him about. But now, after so many days of thought, I know that the best thing to do is to keep my message simple.
It is simple. I cannot leave and staying here will keep my father safe. I only want for him to find a bit of comfort in the note.
Father, I write. I am safe. I am somewhere you cannot find me or fight for me, and I do not wish for you to do that. Please know that I am well. If I can send comfort I will do everything in my power to get it to you.
All my love, Elle.
As soon as I finish, the letter floats out of my hands. I do not follow its path, because I know where it will be going—back to the beast, and I can’t look at him.
“I will offer this to the magic,” he says.
“Thank you.” I breathe, suddenly overwhelmed by the emotion of being allowed even this small chance at contact with my father. I take a few moments to steady myself. “Will you walk with me?” I ask.
The beast does not answer, and when I move again, his footsteps do not follow. He is gone again.
THE PRINCE AND THE BEAST
Elle does not know how she looks when she is standing in the sunlight. I am certain of this, because she stood before me in the terrarium, blushing, with her heart beating quickly as if I was the interesting creature there. I was not. She was ethereal and as I watched her, I had to hold myself very straight and still so that I could concentrate on controlling the beast. He loved the look of her among the flowers, which were blooming in a colorful show, and wanted to lay her down in the garden beds.
It took a great deal of effort to stay in place while she wrote, and I couldn't help staring at the light shining in her hair and the curve of her neck beneath where she had tied her curls back with a ribbon that matched her dress. The dress itself was difficult to look away from, as the pink shade highlighted the color in her cheeks. She looked like one of the blooms had come to life, far more beautiful than it had been when it was a flower.
I’m enraptured by the memory of her thoughtful expression as she wrote to her father and how she moved her pen carefully across the page, every word graceful. Fuck, she’s gorgeous in all that she does. Tempting and naive. She has hope where I do not.
After our encounter in the terrarium, it’s torture to wait for the sun to set. It is well within my power to seek Elle out during the day as she has asked me to. She proved yet again in the terrarium that she is capable of obedience even when she is not blindfolded.
But if I went to her, I would not be able to stop myself from touching her. I want my fingers in her hair and my hands underneath her clothes. I want her back in the light of the terrarium where I can see every inch of her skin exposed to the sun. If I did not blindfold Elle, I would truly be able to see all of her, uninterrupted by the line of black silk.
I want that too much to trust myself with the risk. All it would take is one flutter of her eyelids in the throes of passion and she would look upon me.
Several times, I stand still in my rooms and allow myself to sense her presence in the castle. It is always here, as Elle is forbidden to leave, but she moves around the halls, peeking into different rooms and always avoiding the tower…as she should. I wonder if she feels differently about her obedience today, now that I’ve allowed her to write to her father.
I cannot guarantee that he will read it. I cannot guarantee that the magic will take it to where it’s bidden. That is outside my power.
But she was able to write it, at least, and that must feel like a reward for her beautiful obedience. A gift from me to her. Often in the day, she speaks to the magic, discussing her father. I know she loves him, and I have hurt her by taking her from him. The note is an offering of peace between us. A reward to her even.
