“I don't even know your names,” I said as the beasts escorted me upstairs.
It appeared that I wouldn't be staying in the dungeon. So, I suppose that meant that things were already looking up.
“I'm Blaise,” the third beast, the one with the most gentle voice, said. “This is my brother, Audric”–he pointed to the second beast, the one with the wicked smile–“and the eldest is Lancelot.”
Beast number one nodded to me.
“Lancelot?” I asked. “Like the knight?”
“Our mother loved the Arthurian legends,” Lancelot said gruffly.
“What happened to your parents?”
We had come out into the foyer and were making our way up the grand staircase. I was starting to wonder where they were taking me, but I was more curious about them; these beastly princes.
“They died,” Lancelot said succinctly.
“There was an accident,” Audric clarified. “A horrible accident.”
“We may have behaved badly afterward,” Blaise finished.
“Here's your room.” Lancelot threw open a door that was four feet taller than him, and he must have been over seven feet himself.
“My room?” I asked as I peered past him. “That's a really nice room for a housekeeper.”
“We don't need a housekeeper,” Blaise said. “The castle takes care of itself. It's part of the enchantment.”
“The witch wanted us to live just as we had, but without human connection,” Audric explained. “She thought to teach us that wealth is meaningless without someone to share it with.”
“Well, at least you have each other,” I noted.
“Sure, I have a couple of growling, foul-tempered monsters to keep me company,” Blaise huffed. “I'm so grateful for that.”
“Hey, you're a foul-tempered monster yourself,” Audric growled.
“Which is precisely the problem,” Blaise shot back. “One foul beast is enough.”
“I think I could live very happily in a castle like this with my sisters,” I mused. “Even if we were all beasts. Which, believe me, we can be.”
“You say that now,” Lancelot snapped. “Just wait until you've been here a month.” He shoved me into the bedroom. “Dinner is at seven sharp. Make sure to wear something pretty.”
Then he slammed the door in my face.
“Wear something pretty?” I chuckled. “Where does he think that I'm going to find a pretty dress? Shall I just pull one out of my pocket?”
As soon as I asked the question, the doors of an armoire, just a few feet away, flew open, revealing a wardrobe fit for a princess... or a queen.
“Goodness gracious,” I whispered as I approached the armoire. “The castle really is enchanted. I wonder if these were their mother's clothes.” I fingered the luxurious material, finer than anything I'd ever seen, much less touched. “I hope it doesn't upset them to see me wearing one of her dresses.”
I gave up on making a choice and went in search of the bathroom instead. Wear something pretty, indeed. I was going to do more than dress nicely. I intended to make the brothers drool. I stopped suddenly, my hand on the handle of the bathroom door. When had I ever encouraged the interest of any man? That I would do so now, with men who had entrapped my father, who were, in fact, holding me prisoner, seemed strange, even for me. But there was something about the beastly princes that spoke to me. Something in their eyes. I recognized the loneliness and sadness they held. I'd felt much the same when my mother had died. It was then that I had retreated into my books, feeling safer loving fictional characters more than people. Stories couldn't hurt you. The characters within them couldn't die and leave you behind.
Except now, a book had come to life, and its characters were threatening to make me feel something real again.
Chapter Four
I bathed in the most luxurious bathroom I'd ever been in. I'd say it was the most luxurious room period, but my bedroom surpassed it. The tub was gold, set upon a stone dais, and buckets of steaming water floated in through the open window to fill it. I had soaked for awhile and washed my hair, another bucket of clean water coming in just when I needed to rinse. This invisible servant thing was pretty amazing.
When I finally emerged from the bathroom, I found the armoire open and a canary-yellow dress hung over one door. I scowled at the thing.
