“Are the gowns I provided not to your liking?” he inquired.
“They are lovely of course s—” Rose caught herself before she called The Beast ‘sir’. “But they are tailored for a much finer lady than myself. I’m afraid they do not fit at all. I’m sorry; I know you were expecting Marguerite.”
“You give me too much credit,” replied The Beast. “I had not considered their fit at all. I apologise for my thoughtlessness. Your dress is quite adequate. Please, eat.”
The Beast began to eat his food, his unnaturally huge hands wielding his cutlery with surprising delicacy. Tentatively, Rose said, “If it pleases you, I can alter the gowns to fit.” The Beast grunted in what Rose took to be assent.
The meal proved to be delicious; the meat was venison, tender and rich. The vegetables were sweet and crisp. Rose had only tasted wine once, and had found it acid and unappealing, but upon taking a polite sip from her glass she found the liquid within was something altogether different, an extraordinary melange of complex flavours that spread through her mouth like the warmth from a hearth. For a few minutes, they ate and drank in silence. On a couple of occasions Rose thought she could feel The Beast’s inhuman green eyes regarding her with a hunger that had nothing to do with their repast, but whenever she looked up he seemed intent upon his plate.
Rose finished her meal first, and as The Beast was finishing his last few mouthfuls, she found her curiosity was stronger than her diplomacy. “Forgive my forwardness,” she began, “but I have never seen or heard of any creature such as yourself. From where do you hail? Are there others like you?”
“No, there are no others like me so far as I’m aware,” said The Beast. “But this isn’t a topic of much interest. I’d far rather talk about you. How was your journey?”
Sensing The Beast’s discomfort, Rose began to stammer an apology: “I’m sorry, I only meant—”
“Do not presume to question me on such matters!” spat The Beast, standing up and slamming his hands on the table, his lips snarling back to reveal canine fangs. Rose jerked backwards as he leaned towards her, her chair clattering to the floor behind her. In her panic, conflicting instincts made her try to stand and cringe at the same time. Losing her balance, she fell backwards and began to scramble away.
“I’m sorry,” said The Beast, quickly. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. Please sit down.”
Rose stopped pushing herself backwards, and sat in the middle of the floor, she began to cry. The Beast started forward, reaching out a hand to comfort her, but she recoiled in fear. Holding his hands up to show that he was no threat, he stepped out of reach and sat down on the floor facing the sobbing girl.
“My father told me you gave him food and shelter when he had nowhere else to turn,” she said, her fear turning to anger, tears dripping from her chin. “That’s why I came. Not because of some stupid trick you played with a rose, and certainly not because of a silly tale about you pursuing my father through a magic mirror. I came because I thought you deserved to be repaid, however unseemly your price. Because I thought you would prove to be more than just a monster.”
The Beast winced. “I deserve that, but in my defence, it wasn’t a trick. From my point of view, after I helped your father, he paid me back by stealing from me. I can see why it must have seemed a petty thing, but the fact is, my garden means a lot to me. I work hard on it. In a lot of ways it feels like the only real thing I have.”
“The garden is your work?” asked Rose.
“Of course,” said The Beast. “There’s no-one else here to tend to it.”
She dabbed at her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “It’s beautiful,” she told him. The Beast took a handkerchief out of his front pocket and tossed it to her gently. “Thank you,” she said mopping up the last of her tears. “I’ll repay the debt as agreed. A year and a day. But you’ll forgive me if I retire to my room for now”
“Let me help you up,” said The Beast, standing and offering a hand.
Rose reached up and draped the handkerchief over The Beast’s proffered fingers. “It’s all right,” she said, before clambering to her feet unaided. After she left The Beast opened his dining room curtains for the first time in a very long time, and gazed out into his garden until the silver evening faded into darkness.
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