“Awful,” I whispered.
“Yes,” she agreed simply. “Awful. That’s happening right now to mothers and children across our village. Should their fate be determined by the coins in their purse?”
I shook my head, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. My mother’s hand found mine, her skin warm and alive in a way that made my adult self, trapped in this dream, aching with longing.
“There are two kinds of people in this world, little bell,” she continued. “Those who see suffering as an opportunity to profit, and those who see it as a call to serve. I’ve made my choice. Why would I charge for what nature has provided just because I learned how to utilize it?” She squeezed my hand. “Someday you’ll make your choice.”
I couldn’t know then how prophetic those words would prove. Couldn’t imagine how Gaspard would embody the first kind of person, using Papa’s sacrifice and my vulnerability to serve his own desires. Or how Beast, despite his fearsome appearance, might represent the second by offering shelter, food, and protection when I needed it most.
The garden began to blur at the edges, my mother’s face growing less distinct as the dream started to fade. I reached for her desperately, adult awareness bleeding into child’s body, knowing this wasn’t real, knowing she was already gone.
“Mama, wait,” I pleaded. “I have so much to tell you. So much has happened—”
“I know, my sweet girl,” she said, her voice already distant. It was like this wasn’t just a memory, like this was truly happening. “But you’re stronger than you realize. You always were, even then.” Her fingers brushed my cheek one last time. “Remember what matters, Isabeau. Remember who you, who I taught you to be. Nature provides, as long as you ask, you shall receive.”
The garden dissolved completely, taking my mother with it. But her words remained, echoing in the darkness of my sleeping mind, a compass pointing true north when all otherdirections had been lost in the chaos of curses and beasts and blood-drinking roses.
Remember what matters. Remember who you are. Nature provides, as long as you ask, you shall receive.
eighteen
Isabeau
Iwoke with my mother’s words still echoing in my mind.“Nature provides, as long as you ask, you shall receive.”
Such a simple thing to say, yet it felt like a key turning in a rusty lock inside me. Was that really Mama speaking through my dreams, or just my desperate mind cobbling together memories? Either way, the message lodged itself in my chest like a splinter, painful but impossible to ignore.
Beast’s side of the bed lay empty, the indent of his massive form still visible in the ancient mattress. He must have risen before me, a common occurrence since our strange cohabitation began. Two for two.
I dressed quickly in another gown from the armoire, this one a faded rust color that reminded me of autumn leaves. The fabric hung loose on my frame, designed for a woman with broader shoulders and fuller hips, but it was clean and intact. A vast improvement over the tattered nightgown Beast had destroyed with his eager claws.
The upper floor of the castle remained largely unexplored, a labyrinth of closed doors and forgotten chambers. If I was going to understand this place—and by extension, Beast’s curse and my connection to it—those rooms might hold answers that the roses refused to provide.
When I opened my bedroom door, the sight that greeted me stopped me cold.
Beast crouched in the corridor, his massive form blocking half the passageway. Something was different about him this morning. His fur seemed darker, almost black in places rather than the rich brown I’d grown accustomed to. Was it mud again like yesterday? The hallway’s light caught his silhouette, turning him into something from a nightmare rather than the gentle creature who’d pleasured me so thoroughly the night before.
“Good morning to you too,” I said, forcing lightness into my voice. “Were you waiting for me?”
He didn’t move closer as he normally would. Instead, his ears flattened slightly, and he shifted his weight from paw to paw like a nervous hound. The intelligence I’d come to expect in those amber eyes seemed dimmed, buried beneath something wilder, less human.
I recognized this behavior. It was the same skittishness he’d displayed in the kitchen before our coupling, when animalinstinct seemed to overtake whatever remained of his humanity. Something about late mornings and afternoons made his curse stronger, pushing the man deeper beneath the beast.
“It’s alright,” I soothed, extending my hand slowly. “I’m just going to look around a bit.”
I moved toward the other wing of the castle I hadn’t yet explored, the one opposite my bedroom. Beast immediately rose to his full height, blocking my path with a low growl rumbling from his chest.
“What?” I asked, hands on hips. “I can’t go that way?”
He nudged my stomach with his snout, the gesture insistent but not rough.
“Oh, you want me to eat first?” I laughed despite myself. “I’m not hungry yet. I want to see what’s in those rooms.”
Beast wasn’t having it. He tugged at my skirt with his teeth, careful not to tear the fabric but making his intention clear. Downstairs. Food. Now.
“You’re worse than Papa,” I muttered, trying to sidestep around his massive form. “I promise I’ll eat after I’ve had a look around. It won’t take long.”
His eyes narrowed, clearly unimpressed by my promise. Another tug, more insistent this time.
