The Beast and the Enchantress by Camille Peters
Chapter 3
The lantern’s golden light flickered across the faded parchment as I read it once more, a task made more difficult by the heavy exhaustion muddling my senses. The only sound came from the crackling fire and the agitated rustling of my faithful spellbook’s pages as it moodily floated around the room, having lost another of its battles in trying to dissuade me from my chosen course.
Though I’d studied the curse so thoroughly I now had it memorized, I still slowly went over it again, ensuring I’d accurately performed all the steps. I’d spent nearly every night these past two weeks studying the spell, often into the early hours of the morning, driven by the looming deadline of Prince Gladen’s upcoming engagement ball. After hours of study and preparation I was finally ready.
Tonight would be the perfect moment to finally cast the curse. I drew the curtains back to peer out into the night, where storm clouds had gathered, thick and ominous, the perfect element for my spell.
Magic was comprised of many components: an enchantress’s natural ability, the level of skill brought by her years of study, and the words or potions that made up a spell. But it was also influenced by the world around it—not just the ingredients that comprised it, but other elements such as light and darkness, the weather, even the emotions of the caster.
My anger towards the prince would lend the spell power, but an enchantment of this nature would need further strength, which could only come by being performed not only during the darkness of night but during a storm. The arrival of one on the night I was to cast my curse felt like providence, assuring me I was on the right path and justifying my decision to perform a spell I’d previously never dreamed I’d ever cast.
I opened the window to allow the darkness to tumble in and surround the cauldron bubbling on the hearth. Though the storm outside hadn’t yet begun, I could smell the approaching rain and feel the increase in the wind, both of which would lend their powers to my curse when the time came to cast it.
I’d prepared all the ingredients during my long nights of study. I uncorked each vial and poured them into the simmering cauldron, which bubbled and changed colors with each addition. Between every step, I meticulously stirred the brew according to the spell’s instructions and ensured the roaring fire was the correct temperature. Everything had to be perfect.
While advanced enchantresses could cast their spell without first brewing it and imparting it onto an object, this step was necessary for my skill level, for most of my magic still needed a foundation in order to succeed. Not just any base would do, so I’d chosen mine carefully: Rosemarie’s rose.
I held it up by its stem, taking in its vibrant crimson color, now enchanted to always remain in full bloom. It was strange how something of such beauty had become a symbol of my sister’s heartache and would now be the vessel for such a dark spell. But there was also something poetic about the irony, especially considering Prince Gladen’s own handsome appearance was nothing more than a mask for a cold heart.
I would give Rosemarie a new flower for her nightstand and use this for my spell. Not only would the longevity enchantment ensure the curse wouldn’t fade with time, but my poor sister’s heartache had likely seeped into its petals. Because the curse was being performed in her honor, I hoped it too would lend strength to my magic.
I carefully dipped it into the simmering cauldron, ensuring it was fully submerged. It glowed as the crimson liquid completely coated the rose before the red light faded, leaving the flower exactly as it’d looked before, with no hint of the curse hidden within.
I smirked. Perfect. Now all that was left to do was give it to its intended victim.
I took my cloak from the hook by the door, tucked the rose inside, and slipped out into the night. A canopy of clouds had smothered the moon’s silvery light, making the darkness thick, which only added to the ideal conditions for casting my curse.
Even with the faded light I knew my way around the royal grounds, having traversed this familiar path to the palace many times before. My fingers grazed the tops of the flowers as I walked the labyrinth of gardens. Their sweet perfume soon mingled with the scent of rain as the storm arrived; each drop seeped into my skin to touch the magic simmering beneath, lending its strength for the spell to come.
The guards standing outside the castle gate eyed me warily as I entered, but they made no move to hinder my progression towards the castle. The sloping lawns opened to a cobblestone path that led up a stone staircase to the towering oak front doors. Thunder rumbled in the sky and the rain fell more heavily, urging me up the steps, each one bringing me closer to the prince and the much-needed lesson I was about to teach him.
A sudden wave of apprehension trickled over me, causing me to slow near the top of the stairs. No matter the reasons that had led me here, I’d never performed such magic before. Was I really doing right thing?
“It’s only one spell,” I rationalized for the dozenth time. “One curse to teach that prince a lesson, and then I’ll never use my magic in such a way again.”
But my unease lingered. Was even one curse one too many? Enchantress Ivy’s earlier warning returned: It’s wise not to take a single step down the path you’re considering, for taking one will only tempt you into taking another. Turn your back on it now.
My apprehension increased, but I hastily shook off the unsettling feeling and gathered my resolve. This path was necessary for the good of the kingdom; I was fulfilling my purpose as an enchantress by using my magic to right a wrong and correct a flaw in the prince. What could be more noble?
My knock on the castle door was swallowed up by the gathering wind and rain, but moments later a footman decked in royal livery opened the door and peered out, his eyes wide with surprise at seeing a visitor at such a late hour.
They widened further in recognition. Though I wasn’t yet a full-fledged enchantress, those who possessed magic were rare; this along with my future role as the Royal Enchantress granted me respect.
He gaped for a moment, slowly taking in my appearance. Though my violet gown and golden hair were both thoroughly soaked, my beauty and magic surrounded me like an aura, creating quite the impression, one I hoped would grant me the favor I sought.
Sure enough, his cheeks went ruddy and he hastened into a flustered bow. “It’s an honor, Enchantress Astrid. How may the king’s household serve you?”
Technically it was Apprentice Enchantress, but I liked the sound of my future title, so I made no motion to correct him. “I request an audience with His Highness, Prince Gladen. I have a gift for him, a spell prepared in honor of his impending engagement.”
The footman hesitated, for the hour was nearing midnight, but I hoped the status that came with my powers would allow me this breach in royal protocol. The rumors of enchantresses using their magic to enact revenge on those who displeased them would undoubtedly compel him to grant my unconventional request. My stomach knotted at the grim realization that the actions I performed here tonight would only add to those whispers.
The footman eyed my expression warily. “Of course,” he finally stammered. After another bow he stepped aside to let me enter the palace, but I remained unmoving, afraid to step out of the storm and darkness; I could already feel it lending power to my magic even before I’d cast the spell. Whatever happened, it’d have to be done outside.
I lifted my chin. “I will meet with His Highness here.”
The footman hesitated again. It was one thing to call upon a royal far after receiving hours were over, and quite another to force the prince to meet with his guest outside midst a storm. I didn’t envy his task in making the arrangements with His Highness and felt sorry for him, but unfortunately it was a necessary part of my mission; I’d have to find a way to make it up to him when all of this was over.
“I will meet with His Highness here,” I repeated firmly when the footman remained unmoving. I narrowed my eyes in silent warning, nevermind I didn’t know any curses other than the one I’d painstakingly studied these past several weeks.
He finally thawed from his paralyzing uncertainty. “Of course.” He bowed again and stepped into the castle to retrieve the prince. I waited in the cold darkness, focusing on the feel of the wind and each drop of rain, relishing the power they lent me and counting each raindrop, a measurement of the time passing.
I expected I’d have to wait a long time for the lazy prince to arrive, but to my surprise he came promptly, stepping out into the rain with little concern as to its effect on his velvet finery. I studied his expression, expecting to find resentment for having his evening so rudely disrupted, but he didn’t appear annoyed. Instead he flashed a grin that was annoyingly charming and bowed over my hand.
“We meet again, Enchantress Astrid. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
It took me a moment to get over my fluster in order to find my voice. “Good evening, Your Highness. I trust I haven’t interrupted anything?” Judging by his appearance, he’d likely been attending a rather prestigious event.
“Only a formal dinner between me, my intended, and our families, but it’s no bother; I was hoping for an excuse to leave early.”
Though his expression remained cheerful, an emotion briefly flashed in his eyes, a hint of his displeasure, whether for the event he’d escaped or for my unexpected visit, I wasn’t sure. It faded before I could study it, making me wonder whether I’d imagined it.
“I’m here because—” My words faltered when I noticed the prince’s gaze flicker over my appearance with an appreciation that made me want to find an even more drastic curse than the one I’d planned. My jaw tightened. He noticed my scowl and hastily looked away with a blush.
“Forgive me, you’re…rather beautiful, even when soaked.”
It took every ounce of discipline to resist rolling my eyes. “Even magic can’t stop a storm. I know this is an inconvenient time to call upon you, but my business with you is too urgent to be delayed. My apologies for forcing you to meet with me in the rain.”
“No apology is necessary.” His grin returned as he leaned against the pillar framing the door, arms folded. “I’m admittedly rather curious. I often receive guests in the reception room or even the throne room, so this is quite different. I’m sure such a setting would make even meetings with the most stuffy of dignitaries somewhat bearable. I must keep this in mind for the future. Thank you for the ingenious idea.”
He winked and I merely stared, watching as he tipped his head back with a chuckle to stare up at the dark sky. Rain soaked his hair, causing it to drip down his cheeks and plaster against his brow in a rather appealing way. But while the effect would cause many girls to swoon, it only escalated my resentment towards him.
As did his smile when he next met my gaze. It was less arrogant than it’d been before, almost…sweet. “Your silence as to your purpose for this unexpected pleasure causes me to question the supposed urgency of your visit, but I don’t mind. Perhaps I can even request you take longer than you initially planned; I’m in no hurry to return to the feast.”
I forced a tight smile. “I won’t take any more of your time than necessary. Surely you’re not the type of man who’d purposely keep his intended waiting?”
His expression faltered. “I—” He sighed. “There’s no need to worry; she likely welcomes my absence as much as I do hers.”
I frowned at the unexpected admission. He seemed to realize moments after he’d spoken what he’d unintentionally revealed.
His eyes widened. “Forgive me, that was uncalled for.”
He smiled again, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Instead he seemed almost…weary, as if the events of the day had taken their toll on him. Unsurprising that a pampered, lazy prince would find his duties tedious.
“And your admonition is sound,” he continued. “I must do my duty and return to her as soon as possible.” He tilted his head, an effect that only made him more handsome, the scoundrel. “Now won’t you tell me what you need me for? Whatever it is, I trust you’ll make it worth my while?”
My poise faltered and I found I couldn’t speak. This exchange wasn’t going at all like I’d planned. I hadn’t expected Prince Gladen to be so…charming, and I was frustrated that whatever spell he was working on me was causing me to falter in my previous resolve.
But I could not, would not. His unexpected behavior was undoubtedly done solely in duty, a deference to one with magical powers and our upcoming positions when I became Royal Enchantress serving under his kingship. But admittedly, whatever game he was playing was rather effective, which meant I needed to act before his charm could dissuade me further.
“I brought you a gift.” I reached into my cloak to withdraw the rose, warm to the touch, a sign of the magic it harbored, just waiting to be unleashed.
Prince Gladen’s eyebrows lifted. “A rose?” His tone was surprisingly reverent, as was his gaze as he examined it more closely. “A rosa westerland, by the looks of it. Such a lovely species. I read about them in—” He cut off his own words with an awkward cough. “I mean…I’ve seen them…in the gardens…” He shifted as if nervous and fell silent.
For a moment I stared. Was His Highness a connoisseur of roses? How…unexpected. But my surprise was short-lived when he straightened with a rather pompous air I’d come to expect from him, as if trying to wrap his dignity back around himself.
“It’s a lovely gift, but I have to wonder why a prince is in need of a flower, especially one from his own garden, no matter how lovely.”
His tone had become so unenthusiastic that whatever softening I might have thought I was experiencing towards him vanished in an instant, causing my resentment to return in a rush.
“His Highness doesn’t want an enchanted rose?” It was an effort to keep my tone controlled.
His eyebrows lifted again, this time with greater interest. “An enchanted rose? I suppose that does change things.”
He reached for it and I handed it to him, but even though I no longer held it, its dark, unsettling aura lingered on my skin. Nothing happened when he took it, for the flower was merely a base for the incantation I still needed to perform in order to unleash the curse.
Prince Gladen twirled the rose by its stem as he admired it. “What is the purpose of an enchanted rose? I’m admittedly rather curious.”
“It contains a spell, one I created especially for you in celebration of your marriage.” He’d soon see just what sort of spell I had in mind.
His expression faltered and his hand froze mid-twirl. “As thoughtful as that is, such a gesture is unnecessary.”
“Please, Your Highness,” I said with another smile. “I insist.” I hoped my false sweetness would serve as a disguise for my rising annoyance.
He sighed. “Forgive me for my ingratitude. I do appreciate your thoughtfulness and will accept your gift gratefully. After all, who am I to reject an enchantress?”
His look became expectant, my cue to perform the magic I’d come here for…but I hesitated. Despite weeks of anticipation and my long nights of study in preparation, now that I stood at the threshold of this path, I found I couldn’t move. A sliver of doubt had finally pierced my previous determination for revenge, allowing my conscience to return to whisper its oft-repeated question: was I doing the right thing?
It was quite an effort to push away my lingering doubts. The concentration needed to perform such advanced magic as the curse required left no room for distraction. I had to do this. For Rosemarie and the kingdom.
I gathered all the resentment and anger I felt towards the prince, fuel for my spell, and closed my eyes to allow the darkness of the night and the wind and rain from the storm to seep over me, lending its power to my own. At first my magic seemed to recoil, for all the spells I’d performed up until this point had relied solely on light. But like being suddenly submerged in a frigid lake, after a while it adjusted to the discomfort, and soon even embraced the power.
I allowed the magic to envelop me before I murmured the words of the curse in a language still foreign to me, the magic they unlocked still unrehearsed. But despite my rudimentary skills, the rose in the prince’s hand began to glow with scarlet light, causing his eyes to widen. At first the glow only surrounded the flower before it slowly began to seep over him. By his sudden sharp gasp, I knew the curse was already taking effect.
I increased my focus, pushing my magic further. But the spell was complicated, far beyond my abilities. For magic was like a symphony, and though my powers were adequate enough to perform the magical notes without mistakes, the magic’s music lacked artistry; any that filled the spell was provided by the elements around me, not by my own powers. Would it be enough?
The complications involving such an advanced spell soon made it difficult for me to maintain my fragile hold on it. My control slipped, and for a faltering moment I felt the curse briefly recoil away from the prince and touch my skin, bringing with it not only hot, burning pain, but a dark, sinister feeling, as if I were trapped in an endless night. The unsettling feeling nearly caused me to release my shaky grasp on my powers; only with great effort did I manage to keep hold of them and complete the spell.
The curse finished and the magic surrounding the rose faded away, leaving it looking entirely ordinary. The moment my magic slipped away I frantically looked at my hand where the curse had touched it. I released a shaky breath of relief: the skin was smooth, unmarred. The curse hadn’t touched me after all. But had it reached its intended target?
I lifted my gaze to the prince. At first I didn’t recognize him. His handsome features had altered—his golden hair had lost its sheen, his bright blue eyes had dimmed, his boyish features had become distorted, and he was covered in warts. He stood frozen before gingerly feeling his face and taking in his disfigured hands.
The rose slipped from his hold to fall to the ground as his sharp gaze snapped to mine. “What did you do?”
I stooped down to pick up the discarded rose, a memento of the occasion, and met his gaze with a lifted chin. “Exactly what you deserve. No one displeases an enchantress and gets away with it.” Without another word of explanation, I turned and descended the steps deeper into the storm, leaving behind the now scarred prince.
I’d imagined I’d feel triumph, but with every step, a different feeling settled over me, not the victory I’d anticipated after finally enacting my revenge but something else, an emotion that almost felt like…guilt, for I knew this wasn’t the person I’d set out to be when I’d taken my magic vows.
Just what sort of path had this curse inadvertently put me on?