The Beast and the Enchantress by Camille Peters

Chapter 5

My wart-covered hand shook as I struggled to spread the concealing charm across my skin to disguise the disfigurement hidden beneath. After several failed attempts, I realized my powers alone were currently too weak, even for a spell I was so familiar with, so I’d settled on using a base. The potent, herbal remedy stung as it touched my skin.

With each layer I spread, the deeper my resentment towards the prince grew. I still wasn’t entirely sure what had gone wrong with my curse, but the more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that it couldn’t be completely my fault; the prince’s behavior had forced my hand, and it was his fault that I was now tasked with finding a way to reverse the spell, one that would force me to interact with him far more than I wanted to.

My anger over that fact simmered within me like a spell bubbling in a cauldron, making it difficult to concentrate on either my magic or the riddle on how to escape my current predicament. How did I reverse a curse that had already been beyond my abilities when my current powers were so weakened?

It didn’t help that I was entirely unfamiliar with curses, and while the rules of magic dictated that to ensure balance every spell possessed a countercurse, I was at a loss as to what it could possibly be. Whenever I sought Enchantress Ivy’s advice, she only reminded me of what she’d told me before: curses stemmed from darkness and thus could only be broken by light. Yet how could I create light in a heart ugly enough to have disfigured the prince so drastically?

After much pondering, I decided the best approach would be to try to root out the prince’s darkness. Considering the curse was based on his heart, if I could get him to see his own flaws, perhaps it would lead him to change them…and thus break the spell over him. If in doing so I proved he was a bad person who had every right to be taught a lesson, then that would be an added bonus. But though I didn’t doubt he’d deserved to be cursed, deep down I reluctantly admitted I likely shouldn’t have broken my vows to do it.

Unfortunately, my chosen course would take me to the castle—the very last place I wanted to be—and more specifically to the prince who resided there, the very last person I wanted to see. But go there I must if I had any hope of breaking the curse on myself and reinstating my place as Ivy’s apprentice.

I finished my treatment and corked the vial of remedy before examining my reflection in the mirror. Even with my weakened magic I could faintly see through the spell to the line of warts that had appeared across my right cheek only this morning, a sign that the curse was spreading, which only increased my desperation to break it, no matter the cost.

I sighed and turned away from the looking glass, only to find my gaze drawn to the window, where the castle loomed in the distance. Dread pooled in my stomach at the thought of entering it and meeting with the prince. While my position as the apprentice enchantress granted me easy access to the palace, the last thing I wanted was for Prince Gladen to recognize me. A spell of disguise would have to do.

I retrieved my spellbook, which after a bit of cajoling and some palliative strokes allowed me access to its pages. It only took a few minutes searching through them to find a disguise spell, a simpler one than I was used to considering my powers were still rather shaky. Rather than choosing a spell that would transform my appearance, I selected an enchantment that would merely trick the prince’s eyes into not recognizing me.

I read over the instructions several times before taking a wavering breath and summoning my powers. I searched for its familiar warm spark of light hidden beneath layers of obstacles blocking my powers’ usual route. It took a while to poke and prod through the shadows masking my powers, but I finally found their familiar glimmer. I seized it and clung to it tightly, and although my magic was weak, there was just enough to perform the spell.

I felt it seep over me, a cooling sensation that began from my head and trickled down to my toes. When the spell was complete, I took a moment to catch my breath before making my way to the palace. Once inside, I explored the corridors, searching for the prince, all while listening to the whispers of the passing servants and members of the court, many of whom gossiped of their disfigured prince and his broken engagement in hushed tones.

My lips twitched into a smile, but it quickly faltered at the thought of the looming task before me. I made my way through the lavishly decorated corridors, the ornate state rooms, and the gardens, searching for the prince, but I didn’t find His Highness anywhere. I longed to ask a passing servant where I might find him, but my disguise spell was only strong enough to work on the prince himself, and I wanted no one to know that the apprentice enchantress was seeking him out, lest they make the connection between me and the curse the prince suffered from.

After nearly an hour, I finally resorted to using some of my precious magic for a tracking spell. I created a golden bulb of light, which floated on ahead, guiding me through the castle labyrinth, occasionally pausing to flicker like a flame on the brink of blowing out, a further sign of my weakened magic. I prayed it’d last long enough for me to find His Highness.

At the end of a narrow hallway the tracking spell gave a final flicker before fading completely. I tried to summon another one, but the tracking spell had used up the remaining magic currently at my disposal. I heaved a frustrated sigh, even as I couldn’t help feeling fierce relief for an excuse to avoid interacting with the prince…at least for today.

I turned to walk back up the corridor but paused at the sight of a set of double doors not far from where my tracking spell had stopped. Curious, I opened them, and my breath immediately caught at the vision before me.

A library.

My eyes widened in wonder as I stepped into the vast room, aglow with sunlight tumbling in through towering two-story windows, which cast a sheen of golden light across the array of shelves filling the grand floor and lining the balcony.

I tipped my head back to take in all the books, so awed that for a moment I forgot my purpose in coming to the castle. I itched to explore this grand collection, certain that amongst the volumes would be rare books on magic or storybooks much like those I used to spend hours reading first with Mother, then Rosemarie. I began exploring the shelves in earnest.

“Our library never fails to impress,” a deep, familiar voice said behind me. “But you seem more awed than most.”

I startled and spun around to find the prince himself perched in a window seat, sitting in a manner far too casual for a royal. I bit my lip to suppress a sigh. It appeared I wouldn’t be wriggling out of my obligatory duty to fraternize with the prince after all.

For a moment I simply stared, taking in his appearance with a critical eye. His previously handsome features remained as twisted as the night the curse had been cast the week before, making him rather unattractive, and that didn’t even take into account the warts, festering blisters, and red blotchy discoloration now marring almost every inch of his skin. Such a contrast to how he used to look.

While before his altered appearance would have pleased me, now I only felt overwhelmed at the task before me. My earlier plan of trying to break it by pointing out the prince’s faults in hopes of encouraging him to become a better person seemed utterly impossible when faced with him now; only a very ugly heart could have resulted in such disfigurement.

Prince Gladen watched me eying him with a resigned expression, as if in the days following his curse he’d received such a perusal many times and was already tired of it. For a brief moment I almost felt sorry for him before I reminded myself that he didn’t deserve my sympathy; anything that caused the arrogant man to humble himself was exactly what I’d wanted when I’d set out that dark and stormy night with revenge guiding my course.

Too late I remembered the proper decorum befitting royalty, nevermind I didn’t like this particular one. “Your Highness.” I offered a reluctant curtsy.

His eyebrows lifted. “Ah, so you did recognize me. I wasn’t sure you would considering the recent events that have altered me in such a way.”

He gave me a look that almost dared me to ask what had happened to him, but the last thing I wanted to do was humor him. After a moment he shrugged, not seeming bothered by my silence.

“It appears you’re not here to see for yourself the latest rumors. I thank you for granting me a welcome reprieve from sharing my story; I’ve already told it far too many times.”

I stiffened; such an account would undoubtedly include the means by which he’d been cursed. Enchantress Ivy’s protective spell had only been cast on the king and queen, leaving nothing to stop Prince Gladen should he wish to take the opportunity to soil my name, which he’d likely wasted no time in doing. Did the entire kingdom already know that I was to blame for his condition?

I sighed. Why had I ever thought that the curse was a good idea?

The prince was still eying me, as if waiting for my curiosity to get the better of me, forcing me to inquire after him. I rolled my eyes at his arrogance. Did he think everyone’s actions revolved around him? “Luckily for you, I came to the library not for gossip, but in search of a story far more interesting than your own.” I normally wouldn’t have dared speak to His Highness in such a way, but my disguise and my lingering anger towards him made me feel bold.

He tilted his head, seeming surprised, almost…intrigued. My heart pounded the longer he stared at me, as if he were trying to see through my disguise to the enchantress who had cursed him. But by the slow way he smiled, I knew that for the moment my unreliable magic held.

“It would be quite the challenge to find a story more fantastic than my own, even midst such an impressive collection as this.”

Of course he’d think that. I nearly snorted at his usual conceit…but paused at the teasing glint in his eyes, as if he himself didn’t take such a comment seriously. Puzzlement furrowed my brow.

“I’m not so certain about that,” I said. “Many stories contain human transformations; your situation isn’t unique to you, but can be found in a wide array of books.”

“True, and I’ve read enough of such stories to appreciate the fact that my situation could be much worse: I’m grateful not to have been turned into an amphibian, a transformation which would make it rather difficult to read.” He spoke so casually of his predicament, as if truly unbothered by it, which only deepened my confusion.

“Do you read often, Your Highness?” I asked.

“As often as I can, though obligations of the court often got in the way. But due to recent events I’ve thankfully been temporarily freed from that tedium.” He tilted his head, a twinkle in his eyes. “Forgive me for speaking so ill of the court; by your manner of dress I know you’re a member of it yourself, though I’d wager you might share my aversion to it considering you now find yourself in the library. It’s not often others enter my world of books and reading. I believe an introduction is in order.”

I didn’t immediately speak, too startled to have been mistaken for nobility to find my voice, but perhaps it wasn’t too surprising; my apprenticeship to the Royal Enchantress had risen my status and allowed me to dress in a manner far above the station of my birth, a manner of dress that would become even more appropriate once I rose to my new royal position…if I didn’t lose the opportunity by failing to find a way to break the prince’s curse.

Prince Gladen was still waiting, rather patiently, for an introduction, but I continued to hesitate. I couldn’t very well give him my name. So I spoke the first one that came to mind: Mother’s.

“I’m Lady Dahlia.”

He rose to offer me the proper bow in greeting before he smiled, rather sweetly. “Dahlia…that was the name of our previous Royal Enchantress.”

I blinked. Why had I chosen that name? Of course he would recognize it. “Oh?” was all I could manage.

But he didn’t seem skeptical or suspicious in the least. “Dahlia, named after the flower, I presume? A lovely species.”

I raised a skeptical brow at this second show of interest in flowers. “His Highness appreciates flowers?” I didn’t bother to mask my surprise.

“I appreciate a vast number of subjects, something I’ve admittedly strived to keep a secret…at my parents’ insistence. There seems little point now.”

It was yet another strange piece to the puzzle that was the prince, making there too many for me to even attempt to make sense of them. “Why would Their Majesties insist on such a thing?”

“They’re all about appearances,” he explained. “And thus they find the idea of a bookish prince rather…embarrassing. It’s not princely, you see. Princes are to enjoy court and a good hunt, not books.” His expression remained casual, but his tone had changed, hardened, while his eyes had lost their twinkle. As startling as its initial presence had been, I found I missed it.

“And you find it unnecessary to go along with their charade?” I asked.

“Due to my present circumstances, there’s truly no reason to continue, now that I’ve already disappointed them by losing my greatest asset, as you can see.” Bitterness laced his tone as he gestured towards his face.

I pursed my lips to keep back my smirk, pleased the curse was already doing its job. But before I could find the well-chosen words to help him see his conceit, he returned to his book.

Flustered, I turned away and tried to occupy myself with the surrounding shelves, anything to distract me from the prince who was turning out to be far more confusing than I could have ever imagined. But his nearby presence made it impossible to focus, causing the titles to blur together.

I wasn’t sure why I was so aware of him, or why I was finding it difficult to refocus myself on my actual purpose for coming to the library. Yet the discrepancy between the prince I’d thought he was and the one I was discovering was now far too intriguing to ignore.

I risked a glance over my shoulder to find him with the same contentment he’d had throughout our interaction. Where was his anger, his resentment? Shouldn’t he be feeling both after having been cursed? I’d gone to great lengths to exact my revenge; the least he could do would be to have the decency to suffer for it before I broke the curse. But I’d no sooner thought this than I felt a few more warts prickle against my skin, a manifestation of the darkness filling my own.

Blast.

I sensed the prince’s gaze on me and stole another glance over my shoulder to find him watching me with intense interest as I perused the shelves. I shifted nervously at the attention. “What is it?”

Crimson caressed his cheeks. “Forgive me, I’m simply curious. Ladies of the court are rarely seen within these walls, and I want to know which book is powerful enough to draw you here.”

I reluctantly turned my back on the section of magic I itched to investigate. “Perhaps it’s not a specific book in particular; the thought of exploring a library as wondrous as this is in itself its own allure.”

“It must be quite strong if it’s allowed you to brave the library containing a beast. I’m admittedly surprised I haven’t frightened you away yet.”

“Are you suggesting I have reason to be frightened?” Perhaps focusing on that possibility could nudge him into seeing some of the flaws that had given his curse its power.

The corner of his mouth lifted into a humorless smile. “I didn’t initially think so, but with the stir it’s caused amongst the court…apparently a prince who’s no longer handsome is something to be feared.”

“On the contrary, I find handsome princes are far more dangerous.”

His eyes widened, and for a moment he was silent. “I believe there’s some truth to that.”

I’d resumed my browsing and my fingers had just grazed a rather thick volume of fairytales I thought Rosemarie would enjoy when his words caused me to whirl around. “What?” Was he actually agreeing with my sarcastic quip?

“Ah, now you’re intrigued.” He grinned again. Despite his disfigurement, his smile was still somehow charming, containing a hidden warmth I hadn’t expected. “I must confess that being handsome brings with it its own set of trials. Are you certain you don’t want to hear my story? I assure you it’s as interesting and dramatic as any fairytale contained in that volume that’s captured your interest.”

He patted the spot near him, an invitation to join him, which was the last thing I wanted. I warily eyed first the spot, then the book resting on his lap, seeking an excuse to decline the prince. “I’d hate to disturb you from your own reading.” Though I did need to somehow gain his confidence if I wanted him to open up to me.

“Even if I welcome the disturbance?” His look was almost flirtatious as he patted the spot beside him again. My cheeks warmed, a reaction I silently cursed.

But there was something more in the prince’s expression. It took me a moment to decipher the emotion: almost a desperation for me to accept his invitation. I frowned. Was the prince…lonely?

It was an emotion I knew all too well. Shortly after Mother had died, I’d been left alone with my sister, who’d quickly become withdrawn, leaving me without anyone to sustain me. Even though it’d been years since that dark time, I could still feel the heaviness of that isolating feeling. But what reason did the prince, a man constantly surrounded by fawning nobles, have to be lonely?

But I couldn’t deny I sensed that emotion, and it caused my heart to soften against my will. I lifted my chin. “How can I say no to a prince?”

I told myself that was the reason I ventured closer to take the offered place near him on the window seat, rather than his surprisingly sweet smile and friendly manner. I hated myself for noticing such things, for his unexpected warm gestures had not been what I’d come here to find.

I settled in the seat and turned to him, only to find his charm had been replaced by a frown. “You can say no if you want to. I hate making people feel obligated to humor me due to my title alone.”

Once more his words surprised me, an emotion I was quickly growing to resent. “You give your title too much credit, for there are things with far greater power.”

His eyebrows rose. “Oh? Such as?”

I couldn’t help my mischievous grin. “Curiosity.”

He stared at me for a moment before he slowly grinned too. “I believe I understand that emotion all too well. That very emotion is compelling me to extend our conversation; you’re rather intriguing.”

I felt my cheeks heat again and I hastily looked away from his easygoing manner, one that almost disguised his disfigurement and made me forget how it’d come upon him.

But I couldn’t forget, not when I could feel the warts that marred my own skin, hidden beneath my charm. I reminded myself that the only reason I had to interact with the prince was to break the curse that had backfired on me and to re-secure the position I’d spent my entire life striving for. It had nothing to do with his unexpected charm and friendliness and how almost everything he spoke went against the image I’d created of him in my mind.

The prince closed the book in his lap and leaned forward with a lowered voice. “Now to begin my ghastly tale: I’m sure it hasn’t escaped your notice that my appearance has become…altered.”

I nearly rolled my eyes. “So this isn’t the latest palace trend?” Sarcasm dripped from my tone.

I expected him to be offended, but his lips only twitched. “I’m surprised you’re so far behind in the world of fashion. Don’t you know that warts are all the rage?”

“I’m afraid I pay little attention to the trends of the court.” I self-consciously rubbed the warts brandishing my own skin with my thumb, as if I could rid myself of them. I noticed the prince’s gaze watching me and hastily lowered my hand. “So your warts are not the result of conforming to the pressures of the court?”

He shook his head and his look darkened, which was almost startling after the unexpected warmth filling our interaction. “An enchantress cursed me,” he hissed through his teeth. “She came in the dead of night and…” He clenched his jaw and didn’t finish.

I tried not to smile, pleased to finally see the resentment I’d been waiting for. “An enchantress?”

His eyes immediately widened, and he looked as if he wanted nothing more than to snatch the admission back. “I shouldn’t have told you…up until now, I’ve been making up all sorts of explanations for my appearance and haven’t told anyone what really happened; I should have kept it that way. Please, keep this with the utmost discretion.”

My brow furrowed. “I will keep your confidence, though I’m admittedly surprised you find it necessary.” I’d expected him to want to spread the news, his own revenge for what I’d done to him.

He hesitated. “Spreading such a story would do nothing to aid my predicament…it would only upset the enchantress further. I wasn’t in jest when I told you I’m grateful not to have been transformed into something far worse, and I’m still unconvinced she won’t return and finish the job.”

Even if human transformations had been within the realm of my abilities, I wouldn’t have been foolish or cruel enough to extend the prince’s punishment that far. “The fact an enchantress cursed you means you’ve already angered her. You must have done something to offend her.”

His eyebrows rose. “You assume I offended her?”

“You are covered in warts. Such a condition wouldn’t have been given without cause.”

He heaved a heavy sigh. “You’re likely right, but I haven’t the faintest idea what offense I could have caused.”

I resisted the impulse to roll my eyes, but he sensed my skepticism all the same.

“You don’t believe me, I presume.”

“No.” My anonymity once again granted me boldness. “Enchantresses are under a vow to only use their magic for good, so for one to curse you means you must have done something to deserve it.” I gave him a pointed look, hoping the blatant hint would cause him some much-needed self-reflection.

For a moment he gaped at me before he sighed. “Perhaps I did.”

I stared in surprise that he’d admitted the possibility so easily. Perhaps the curse wouldn’t be as difficult to break as I’d thought. But my hopes were quickly dashed when he next spoke.

“But I’m still at a loss as to what; I’ve scarcely interacted with that enchantress.”

We’d interacted enough for me to dislike him immensely…but he was admittedly making it rather difficult to dislike him now, a thought which caused unwanted guilt to prickle my conscience. But I hastily shoved the unwanted emotion away and instead refocused my efforts on finding a way to cause Prince Gladen to see his faults.

His heavy sigh soon interrupted. “Regardless of Enchantress Astrid’s reasoning, she’s undoubtedly taking great satisfaction in her punishment, considering the repercussions of my offense have extended beyond simply being able to avoid court and have more opportunity to read.”

I recalled the whispered words I’d overheard throughout the palace corridors. “I think I know the rest of your story well enough. There were far-reaching consequences of offending someone with great magic. My condolences on your broken engagement.”

To my amazement, instead of looking sorrowful, he only grinned. “There’s no need for that. I’m quite relieved to be rid of her, actually.”

I frowned. While I’d found little to recommend his intended, I’d assumed she was exactly Prince Gladen’s type. “But…she was so beautiful.” Hadn’t that been enough to enamor the prince?

He frowned. “Hmm, she was beautiful. Quite so. But that was all she had to recommend her.” Prince Gladen returned to the book in his lap. “She was also rather…vain.”

I snorted in disbelief at the irony that the prince disliked a trait he very much possessed himself. He peered up from his book with raised eyebrows.

“Is something amusing?”

“I admit I’m surprised as to your opinion on the matter, considering vanity is an expected trait amongst the court.”

He turned a page in his book, his movements rigid. “By some, but not by me. That shallow girl cared nothing for me as a person. Good riddance she’s gone.”

I gaped at him. “But…she was the woman you were to marry. You must have loved her.”

He suddenly snapped his book shut, his friendly manner gone, expression cold. “I didn’t love her. Our arrangement was solely a political alliance, forged by my father without my consent. Yet I was forced to honor it, sacrificing all my hopes for my own future, all for the sake of duty.” He spat the word out like a curse. “I wanted to choose whom to give my heart to and spend the rest of my life with…but that opportunity was stolen from me. All for someone who only saw the title rather than the man himself.”

As he spoke, another layer of warts appeared along his previously well-defined jaw, a manifestation of the dark feelings tainting his heart. Ah, so that was the emotion that had triggered the effects of the curse: not conceit like I’d assumed, but…bitterness. This bitterness darkened his entire expression, lining his voice with coldness and causing frustration to dim his eyes, eclipsing the friendliness that he’d previously exhibited.

I felt a moment of satisfaction. I’d discovered the source of the prince’s dark heart, a bitterness that must run deep to have disfigured him so completely, further proof he’d deserved the punishment I’d inflicted. It was a shame I had to find a way to reverse it considering it already appeared to be doing its intended job of humbling him.

The prince heaved a weary sigh. “That is the sad tale of the now disfigured prince: duty robbing me of choice, a forced alliance, and being seen for one thing and nothing else.“ He clenched his teeth as his frustration mounted. “But though my curse freed me of my shackles of political contracts and a woman interested solely in my looks and title, it’s also doomed me to another loveless prison, for what chance do I have to find love when no one will ever be able to see beyond the beast to the man inside?”

Silence followed his outburst, save for his sharp, angry breaths. I gaped at the frustration twisting his expression, one that left me breathless. I was unsure what to say, my words having fled. He must have realized he’d spoken too much, for he hastily regathered his composure, tucking all his emotions away…save for embarrassment.

“Forgive me, I shouldn’t have been so open. I don’t know why I—” He gave his head a rigid shake. “I’ll leave you to your search for a far more cheerful story than my own.” He ducked behind his book, signaling the end of this unexpected conversation.

But surprisingly, I wasn’t quite ready for it to be over. My mind whirled with the revelations from his unexpected confessions. I almost felt sorry for him, but reminded myself that considering his pampered life, his self-pity was laughable. “I had no idea it was so difficult to be royalty.” I realized I shouldn’t have spoken the words out loud when he snapped his book shut once more, looking truly annoyed now.

“Of course you didn’t. No one seems to expect royals to have feelings, especially not my own father. It never occurred to him that his son wanted something more than the cold, unfeeling marriage he himself has. No one expects a prince to hate having to pretend to be someone he’s not just to fit the expectations placed upon him. Nor does anyone seem to find value in a prince beyond his looks and title. Now that they’re gone I’m left with nothing.” His expression crumpled. “I have nothing.”

And without another word, he stood and left the library with agitated strides, slamming the door behind him.

For a moment I stared after him, my heart pounding rapidly as it wrestled with a myriad of emotions I wasn’t currently strong enough to experience. Desperate for a distraction, my gaze drifted to the book he’d left behind on the window seat, my curiosity compelling me closer to steal a peek at the title.

I gaped. A book of…poetry? Why would a stuffy prince read such a thing? But the answer was obvious: the prince might not have been exactly who I’d thought he was.