Beast within the Beauty || A Beauty and the Beast Retelling

Chapter Thirty || To Depart with a Beast

"YOU ARE LONELY," he echoed softly, his eyes lingering on the side of my face. With a distant sort of sadness, he concluded, "You miss your family."

Not a question—a statement.

"I miss my brother," I corrected him with an ache in my voice. And I missed my mothers and sisters, little Joceline, the village children—even the haughty school brats that spat on our doorstep as to insult widowed mothers and orphaned children. And I missed my father.

"Were the two of you close?" Raoul whispered slowly, as if he was not certain as to whether he wished to hear the answer.

"Yes, very," I sighed, a fair bit more unguarded than I would have preferred. But there was no use in attempting to gather my defenses—not now. So I added, "We were such rascals, the two of us..." A grin found my lips as Emil's face formed in my mind. "We did everything together—stole cookies from the baker's son when he was not looking, hid frogs in our mothers' shoes..." I loosed a breath. "I miss him terribly."

I felt more truth in that statement than I felt guilt in any lie I had ever uttered. It wounded me that despite my attempts to shove thought of my brother and home, they always crept back as if to comfort me. Before Raoul could prod further, I asked, "What of you? Do you ever feel lonely?"

"Of course." He did not hesitate. "With a castle as vast and empty as this one, I am haunted by loneliness. Though..." His eyes fell unto my own. "I find myself feeling less of it lately."

"Is that so?" I arched a brow.

There was a look in his twinkling gaze that I could not decipher—something warm and if a little playful. "You, Ismae," he murmured. "Your presence has brought joy to me and to the maids. You have made them very happy tonight—a thing I have failed to do as their lord." Carefully, he clasped his fingers clasped my own as he tugged me towards him. His hands were a fair amount larger than mine, calloused and rough. "For that, I am indebted."

Warmth graced my cheeks. "Raoul...Not at all." I shook my head and sought to lay my hand over his. "Your servants think only well of you, despite the many years with the Flux. " His brows furrowed together. "They stand with you, regardless of the years and murders that have taken place. They are proud to call you their lord."

"And you, Ismae?" he whispered into my ear. "Are you proud to call me your husband?"

I nearly flinched, having not anticipated the question. "Raoul...In my time here, you have honored me like no other man would honor his unwilling bride. And for that...I—"

A crack roared out within the forest.

His head snapped up.

He whipped around. I surveyed the forests beyond us, peering into the thicket of shadows and branches beneath the balcony. And then Raoul swore something fierce. "The grave," he gritted. His fingers came around his lace cravat and tugged upon it as if he were undressing.

I noted the worry in his knitted brows. "Pardon me, Ismae, but I must cut our time short. Please return to your rooms and lock your doors—do not open it for anyone you do not recognize. Madame Dubois has already arranged for you to bath, should you desire—"

"I am not going anywhere." I grasped his hand. "I will come with you."

The flash of hesitation dallied no more than a burst of lightning. "Very well then." He nodded, and without another word, spun on his heel. "Follow me."

I gathered my skirts in a fist and walked after him, failing to keep pace with his long, hasty strides. "What is it, Raoul?"

We crossed through the ballroom within moments, trampling over the grounds on which we had danced only moments prior. "I fear that those dead witches have become restless—that the roses have broken free of their slumber. If that is the guess, it would be best the castle is made aware."