The path wound deeper into the grove than I’d ventured on my own, eventually opening onto a scene so beautiful it stole the words from my throat. A small waterfall cascaded over moss-covered rocks, feeding a crystal-clear pool below. Sunlight fractured through the spray, casting tiny rainbows across the surface of the water.
But it wasn’t the waterfall that made my heart stop. It was the creature drinking at the pool’s edge.
“Is that...” I couldn’t finish the question, afraid speaking would break the spell of the moment.
The animal raised its head, water dripping from its muzzle. It was a horse—or rather, horse-shaped—with a coat so pristinely white it seemed to glow with its own inner light. And from the center of its forehead spiraled a single horn, pearlescent and gleaming in the dappled sunlight.
“A unicorn,” I whispered, the word feeling strange on my tongue. “I’ve read about them in Papa’s books, but I never thought...”
Beast made a low, musical sound in his throat, and to my astonishment, the unicorn responded with a soft whinny. It approached us cautiously, head high and horn glinting dangerously despite its gentle demeanor.
“It knows you,” I said, watching the interaction with wonder.
Beast nodded, then gestured toward me with his massive head. Was he... introducing us?
The unicorn stepped closer, its eyes fixed on mine with unnerving intelligence. I stood frozen, barely breathing, as it lowered its head to my level. Those eyes—I gasped when I realized—they were amber. The same impossible shade as mine, as Beast’s, as Queen Charlotte had described her son’s, and my mother’s.
“Hello,” I whispered, slowly raising my hand.
Beast made no move to stop me as I extended my fingers toward the unicorn’s muzzle. The creature hesitated only briefly before pressing its velvet nose against my palm.
Warmth flooded through me at the contact, not just physical heat but something deeper. Something that resonated in my bones, in my blood, in whatever power had saved me from drowning in the village river. The unicorn’s eyes seemed to glow brighter, and for a breathless moment, I felt connected to it in a way I couldn’t explain. As if some part of me recognized some part of it, across an impossible divide of species and magic.
“How is this possible?” I asked, my voice barely audible. “Your eyes, they’re like mine. Like Beast’s.”Like my mother’s,I didn’t add. The implication sent my thoughts spinning in directions too fantastical to consider.
That’s when I spotted a stag in the trees. Well, I thought it was a stag, but it wasn’t a normal one. This had antlers that pulsed a blue glow, and fur lighter than anything I’d ever seen. Part of me wondered if it had been real because I didn’t know of anymythical creature who would look like that. But I also didn’t know how a beast had formed.
My pause made the beautiful creature under my touch nicker. The unicorn pulled away gently, returning to the pool with stately grace. I turned to Beast, questions tumbling over themselves in my mind, but his attention had shifted. He stared back the way we had come, ears pricked forward, body suddenly alert.
With a roar that shook the leaves from nearby trees, he called out. Not in anger or threat, but in what sounded almost like... a summons?
The effect was immediate and astonishing. From every direction, creatures began to emerge. Not just the woodland animals I’d seen before, but beings I’d only encountered in the pages of Papa’s most fantastical books. A bird with feathers of crimson and gold that seemed to shimmer with actual flame. A creature with the body of a lion and the face and wings of an eagle, moving with imperial dignity through the underbrush. Tiny, luminous beings that might have been fairies darting between flowers. And at the edges of the clearing, partially concealed in shadow, two massive shapes. Though I couldn’t make out details beyond their size and the intensity of eyes watching warily from the darkness.
The raven I’d seen before. The one that had led me to the castle, that had shown me where to find herbs. It swooped down from a nearby tree. It landed not on my shoulder as it had before, but on Beast’s. Its glossy black feathers stark against his brown fur. The two touched heads in a gesture so affectionate it could only be described as a nuzzle between old friends.
“You know each other,” I said, watching the interaction with fresh understanding. “The raven led me here... to you.”
Beast’s eyes met mine over the raven’s dark form, and I saw confirmation there. Not random chance then, not mere luck thatI’d found the castle when fleeing for my life. I’d been guided here deliberately.
But why? What made me special enough for such intervention?
As if in answer to my unspoken question, Beast lowered himself to the ground in what could only be described as a bow, His front legs bent, his massive head dipped low, those amber eyes never leaving mine.
And then, to my utter shock, every creature in the clearing followed suit. The unicorn bent its forelegs. The fiery bird dipped its gleaming head. The lion-eagle creature lowered itself to the ground. Even the mysterious shapes at the forest’s edge inclined themselves in my direction.
They were bowing. To me.
“What—what are you doing?” I spun in a slow circle, taking in the impossible sight of magical creatures paying homage to a village girl with flour still dusting her hands. “I don’t understand.”
Warmth pulsed through me again, stronger this time, radiating outward from my core. It wasn’t just heat but power. The same power that had thrown Gaspard across the room, that had kept me alive in the drowning cage, that had surged when the unicorn touched me. It recognized these creatures, yearned toward them like a flower turning to sunlight.
Tears sprang to my eyes as the sensation intensified, not painful but overwhelming in its intensity. Whatever magic lived in me, it wasn’t just similar to what preserved this garden and its inhabitants—it was the same. Connected. Part of a greater whole I was only beginning to glimpse.
“I want to help you,” I said, the words escaping before I could consider their implication. “Whatever darkness threatens you, whatever curse holds this place... I want to help.”
The animals remained bowed for a moment longer before gradually returning to their normal postures. Beast was the last to rise, his stare holding mine with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
Hope? Relief? Fear? Perhaps all three.
