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Bittersweet & Strange

Page 43

by Ardis Thorne

I swallow and look at him again, fighting every instinct telling me to put as much distance between us as possible.

“I want the stories.”

17

Rhys

Boone backs away from me until the backs of his legs strike the large recliner positioned in front of my fireplace. He loses his balance and falls directly into it, his hands immediately gripping the worn leather arms. I follow him across the room and lower myself to my knees in front of the chair, taking the same position I did as a child when my mother would sit here and read to me, the fire burning behind me while her voice filled this room.

I know some versions of my own story, but I’ve never once heard anyone refer to it as a fairy tale.

He’s so tense that little tremors travel through his body, his fingers curling more tightly around the arms of the chair as he watches me kneel in front of him.

“The story,” I prompt.

“Which?” he asks quietly.

I consider the question because there are apparently enough stories about my family that he feels the need to ask. “The fairy tale.”

He stares at me, clearly not expecting that answer. Eventually, he shifts against the leather, swallows and looks briefly toward the fire before beginning.

“There was a girl named Belle who lived in a village with her father, and everyone said she was beautiful. Although, that was never what mattered most about her.” He looks cautiously at me. “She loved books and stories about distant places, and she dreamed about seeing a world beyond the village because the life waiting for her there never felt like enough.”

I remain silent and wait for him to continue.

“One day, her father disappeared, so Belle went looking for him and eventually found him imprisoned inside a castle belonging to a Beast. This enormous, terrifying creature everyone feared.” Boone pauses and glances at the floor, deliberately avoiding my eyes. “She begged the Beast to release her father, and eventually he agreed, but only on the condition that Belle remain in the castle to take her father’s place.”

The similarities are impossible to miss. Boone came here searching for his father, found him imprisoned in my castle and offered himself in exchange for his freedom. I wonder if he recognized the resemblance immediately or if it took him as long as it took me.

I gesture for him to continue.

“So Belle became the Beast’s prisoner, and her father was allowed to leave while she remained trapped inside the castle with him.” Boone glances at me briefly before looking toward the flames behind me. “At first, she was terrified of the Beast because he had a horrible temper and frightened her. All she wanted was to return home, but there was something strange and bittersweet about the castle because it was enchanted.”

“Enchanted?”

“There were magical objects and mirrors, things that shouldn’t have been possible, because the Beast and everything around him were under a spell.” He seems to relax slightly as he talks, no longer struggling over every word. “The Beast had been cursed, and the curse could only be broken if he learned to truly love someone and somehow earn that person’s love in return before it was too late. Otherwise, he would remain a Beast forever.”

The fire cracks behind me, but neither of us looks away from the other.

“And she loved him?”

“Eventually, but he had to change first because she couldn’t love him while she was terrified of him.” Boone hesitates, then looks directly at me when he continues. “He couldn’t force her to love him, and keeping her prisoner wasn’t the way to earn her affection. He had to learn how to be gentle with her and care about what she wanted instead of only what he wanted. Eventually, he loved her enough that he was willing to let her go.”

My focus narrows immediately. “He let her leave?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Boone holds my gaze now. There’s no hesitation in his answer. “Because she wanted to.”

I dislike the answer immediately. “And she returned?”

“She did, because once she was gone, she realized she loved him and chose to come back to the castle.” His expression softens slightly as he remembers the ending. “She returned to the Beast and told him she loved him. That was enough to break the spell. The Beast became a man again, the castle was freed from the curse, and Belle remained with him.”

I stare at Boone while the fire crackles behind me, turning the story over in my head and finding so little of my father in the creature he’s describing that it hardly feels like the same man.

“That is the fairy tale?”