That meeting had not gone according to her plan, but apparently Isa was missing something about this beast. She was determined to find out what it was.
Hopefully she did not get her head torn off in the meantime.
The following morning, she did not go straight to the library. Instead, she went to sit by a window overlooking the rose garden.
It was a beautiful morning. The sun peeked over the mountains, spreading long shadows in its wake. Rather than dry out everything in its path, as happened in the city, the light fell on lush green plants that had plenty of access to cool air and water in the mountain climate. Just the sight of the beautiful morning made Isa feel like running out to the garden herself and singing at the top of her lungs.
But on this particular morning, she contented herself with enjoying the view, for she had other plans.
As was his habit, the beast soon appeared below her, walking through the rose bushes and carefully smelling the individual blooms.
Isa smiled, backing away from the window. Tiptoeing on stockinged feet, she wound her way to the west wing and silently opened the door of the beast’s room. The servants usually slept in this half of the villa, but she had invited them to sleep on the family’s side in the east wing to keep them further from their guest.
The modest room was comfortably furnished and clearly inhabited. The blankets on the bed had been clumsily straightened, the wardrobe door was slightly ajar, and a leather pack lay open on the side table.
A small feeling of guilt gnawed at her, but she pushed it away. This was her villa, and she had a right to know who—or what—was occupying it.
She started with the wardrobe. A loose shirt, larger than any she had ever seen, was tossed over the center rod. She had not realized until this moment that the beast had been wearing the same waistcoat and breeches every day. At least he had a second undershirt.
She turned to the table, pausing to ensure no lumbering footsteps were coming down the hall.
All was silent.
The rucksack held nothing unusual. A few slices of dried meat, an empty water skin, and a few coins. No letters, parchments, or special trinkets.
The only remotely unique item in the room was a single rose, standing tall in a jar of water.
It was stunning.
She examined it more closely. It was the most perfectly delicate bloom she had ever seen.
And it was absolutely not from the bushes in the courtyard.
The mountain roses were small, fluttery blossoms on twisted, thorny branches. This beautiful specimen was large and full, its petals perfectly nestled within each other, rippling out to a bold open blossom. Even the stem was tall and straight, adorned with only a few pointed thorns.
Lifting the rose from the jar, Isa cupped her hand beneath the blossom and brought it to her face. The velvety petals brushed her skin as she inhaled its scent. It was glorious. She closed her eyes. The soft aroma reminded her of sunny days and flowing streams and picnics in a grassy field. Nothing about the scent was too bright or overpowering, as it was on some roses. This aroma was soft and delicate and completely full. She inhaled again, perfectly happy to smell this scent for the rest of her life.
“PUT. THAT. DOWN.”
Isa clenched the rose, guilt and anger flushing her cheeks as she turned to face the beast.
His hulking frame filled the doorway, so much so that he had to duck his head to fit under it. His shoulders were hunched as he reached toward her, claws extended. One paw gripped a bouquet of freshly picked roses. His animalistic eyes flashed bright yellow in anger.
Though the power of his voice was yet again strong enough to shake every piece of furniture in the room, Isa was better prepared to face it this time. She refused to be intimidated.
“How dare you speak to me like that in my own home.” She shook the rose at the beast to emphasize her words.
“Put that down,” he repeated. His eyes tracked every movement of her hand, as though he were a dog waiting for her to toss him a scrap of food. A deep rumble growled from his throat.
It was a sound Isa had not heard from him before. It held menace and a threat. Rather than scare her, it fueled her desire for control. “What are you hiding from me?” she asked, holding the rose out of his reach. “So what if you’ve been cursed? You’re a prince. Your family has access to every physician and even direct access to the Council!”
He slowly inched toward her, his feral eyes still glued to the rose.
The mention of the Council had triggered an anger deep within her, and she squeezed the stem of the rose, shaking it again. “They wouldn’t threaten your father with imprisonment for something he could not deliver! He’s a king! They would bend over backward to have their examiners heal you. Why did you run? What are you hiding from me?!”
The beast had stopped moving just out of reach. The quiet rumble in his throat turned into a roaring growl as he launched himself forward without warning.
Isa shrieked, uselessly holding the rose as high as she could reach.
