The True Tale of Thousandfurs

Thirteen

Thousandfurs sat in her cubbyhole, holding her now ruined golden glove in her hand. The wounds had reopened after the prince had grabbed her to try and stop her from leaving, blood soaking through the lacey fabric.

At first, she was upset, but now the more she looked at it, remembering that night, the feeling of his hands on her waist, it made her smile. She would never have the chance to wear the dress again as it was, so what did it matter? She was able to enjoy one night for the first time in her life. For the most part at least.

She wished that was how he could see her all the time. She wished he viewed her as more than the beast he had found in the woods. She wished he knew who she really was, so then maybe she could see him for the man behind the mask. She knew, just as she was hiding behind a cloak of lies, disguising the truth of her past, he was doing the same.

Just as she had been so far away from the world and the true horrors it contained, he was somewhere in between. He had been in battle and fought many dangerous wars, but he was still royalty, with slaves bowing at his feet. He did not know who he truly was or how to love another other than his parents and why would he? He was seen as something other than a human, the same as she was a beast.

Perhaps they had more in common than one would think.

A loud knock shook the small dusty shack and she shot upright, covering her head with the hood. "Da prince wants yah in da stables. Now!" The chef shouted, making her jump again. She quickly scurried out the door and around his large shape, following his command without uttering so much as a breath until she was out of his sight. He frightened her. To be fair, most things frightened her.

She stumbled her way through the servant passages until she reached the step that would take her down into the garden, where a gate would then lead her down a path to the stables. She had only ever been here once when a stable boy had asked for help and they sent her to assist with the dirty work. She had failed miserably, not being strong enough to lift the shovel full of feces or move the bales of hay, so they never asked for her help again.

She had felt bad about it at the time, not wanting to be useless, but now, in the blistering cold, with only her thin dress under her cloak to keep her warm, she did not mind the warm kitchen fire to which she was confined.

She watched her feet carefully, making sure not to trip over the rugged terrain. Her warn woolen stockings slipping down with each step, but she refused to stop and pull them up, not wanting to keep the Prince waiting too long. So, she pushed on, holding her arms to her chest, her fingers turning red where they gripped the edges of her cloak.

When she reached the stable, she saw the prince in a fine leather tunic, and a half cloak over his shoulders made of bear fur, stroking the mane of a gorgeous midnight black stallion. He smirked at her, his dark curls falling in his eyes where they were tucked under his crown.

"You move quickly, my little mutt. I thought I would be standing here for hours." He laughed darkly and pat the horse on the side of its neck as it shook its head with a snort.

"I- I did not wish to keep you waiting, my lord." She lowered her head and curtsied, her shoes sinking into the mud.

"For once, you were not a disappointment." His cold eyes, dug into her soul, watching her unravel in his hands.

Her face grew hot in embarrassment and she could feel the sting behind her eyes. She had to remember that last night meant nothing now that she was no longer a beautiful princess. He would never love her for anything more than her status and her beauty. Beauty that would fade with time as it was.

"I never wish to displease you, my lord and I apologize sincerely if I have." she swallowed a lump in her throat and lowered her head so he could not see the hurt on her face.