Beauty and the Beasts
Chapter One
“Once upon a time there were three spoiled princes,” I read. “They dined on the finest food and drank the best wine. Their clothing was made of silk from the East, fur from the North, velvet from the West, and linen from the South. They lived in the most magnificent castle made of stone and glass and were waited upon by an army of servants. They had everything their hearts could desire, and that was their downfall.”
I frowned at the book, flipping back to the cover to read the title again. There was no author listed, and I was beginning to realize why. What had I been thinking when I borrowed this book from Theo? But I was nothing if not tenacious, so I returned to reading.
“On a dark and stormy night,” I read and then rolled my eyes.
“Ugh... really?” I huffed. “As if 'once upon a time' wasn't bad enough, you have to add 'dark and stormy'? Who wrote this crap?”
“Sylvaine?” My father called.
“Up here, Father,” I called back to him.
“Come down and wish me farewell. I'm about to leave.”
I clambered down from my spot in the barn's loft and found my father smiling up at me as he stood in the open space between horse stalls. He held his arms wide open, and I went into them, still holding my book. He hugged me tightly, and then took my hand by the wrist and lifted it so that he could see the book.
“The Beastly Princes?” My father read the title aloud. “Is it a horror story?”
“No, but it may end up horrifying me, nonetheless.” I grimaced.
Father laughed. “You're too smart for your own good, Sylvie.” He kissed my forehead. “Now, your sisters have all made their requests. What shall I bring you?”
I knew that Father was hiding the fact that his business had taken a bad hit. My sisters didn't know that our last two ships had been attacked by pirates, the goods stolen, but I did. Theo often received word from the larger towns, and he told me what had happened. But my father was a proud man, and I didn't want to embarrass him.
“I would love a rose,” I said with a smile.
“A rose?” Father lifted his brows. “Not a comb or a book?” He looked pointedly at my beastly novel.
“No, just a rose,” I repeated.
He stared at me a moment and then nodded sadly. “You're a good girl, Sylvaine. I love you.”
“I love you too, Father.”
I watched him walk out to his waiting cart and climb in. He rode out toward the seaport village of Rapace, our horse, Bertrand, pulling the wagon. Father turned back as he got to the gate and waved. I waved back and then returned to the loft and my story.
“Let's see, where were we?” I scanned the page. “Ah, yes, we left our heroes... anti-heroes?” I frowned and then decided on, “Main characters, in a dark and stormy night.”
I sighed and then began to read, “An old woman let herself into the palace in the midst of a party. She walked through the grand ballroom, right up to the eldest prince.
'I beg of you to grant me shelter on this dismal night,' she said.
The prince scowled at her and simply turned away as if speaking to her was beneath him.”
My eyes went wide, and I growled. “Rude!”
I went back to reading, “The old woman approached the second prince and asked him for shelter. The second prince waved his hand, and an attendant hustled the woman away. As she was led through the ballroom, the old woman called out to the final prince, the fairest and sweetest looking of the brothers.
'Your Highness, please have mercy on an old woman. Do not let them put me out into the storm!'
The prince looked her over and said to the attendants, 'Give her a pallet in the stables, she can bed down with her own kind.'”
I gaped at the page. “Oh, you bratty bastard!” I hissed.
Then I read on, hoping that the prince would get his comeuppance. “The old woman broke free of the men who were restraining her and, in a blinding flash of light, her figure transformed into that of a beautiful maiden. The entire court went silent, in awe of her beauty. The three princes came forward and stared at the woman in astonishment.
