The Beast and the Enchantress by Camille Peters

Chapter 8

Ibit my lip as I focused on the mayflowers growing beneath the forest’s shady canopy and struggled to penetrate the thick layers blocking my powers. Yet the charm remained elusive, despite it being a simple spell, one of the earliest I’d ever learned: transforming a flower into a butterfly, an elementary task considering both species shared many features in common. I’d been practicing in the woods for hours, yet every flower I’d attempted to change remained distinctly flora. My magic, while still a part of me, felt so distant, making it difficult to reach for, hold on to, and control.

Undeterred, I reached within myself once again, searching for the familiar glow of magic. Though I couldn’t see it, I sensed its flickering flame, a sign that whatever light was inside me hadn’t been entirely extinguished, though it still remained always just out of reach.

I struggled to push my magic towards the mayflowers. They gave a weak quiver, and for a moment I thought their white petals shimmered, a sign my magic had at least touched them…but then it faded, causing the spell to fail and leaving me exhausted.

I sighed. There just wasn’t enough magic to use my faded powers the way I used to. I lifted my palms to examine them. Perhaps I shouldn’t have used what little reserves I’d gathered these past several days on covering my warts. I was ashamed of my vanity. How ironic I’d accused Prince Gladen of such a trait when all I had to do to find it was look in the mirror.

I stood to take the familiar path out of the forest, walking alone considering my spellbook had grown bored with my practice not even an hour in and left. The woods were peaceful—cheerful birdsong filled the branches above, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of pine and wildflowers—yet it was impossible to find solace in such a tranquil environment with my discouragement tainting the lovely afternoon and my lingering disappointment that another day in the woods had passed without encountering a specific “hunter.”

I hadn’t seen Prince Gladen for several days, not since his unexpected visit to the enchantress’s cottage where he’d talked with the real me. Our confrontation still haunted my thoughts—his cold anger and despair had increased my own sense of helplessness and compelled me to renew my efforts to create the potential countercurse.

My hand went to the new rose tucked securely in my cloak. This morning I’d finally procured the final ingredient and hadn’t wasted a moment creating the new brew out in the garden. The rising sun and the promise of a beautiful day—opposite of the dark, stormy night I’d cursed the prince—had lent my magic power. The day had only grown more lovely, making it the perfect one to give the newly enchanted rose to the prince and cast my countercurse spell…if I could but encounter him.

I stepped out of the forest and ventured into one of the royal gardens, hoping to find him there. Roses of all colors surrounded me. But my focus was only on the rose I held.

The sunlight glistened off the warts lining my hand as I twirled the cursed flower by its stem. Though there weren’t as many blemishes as before, most still lingered. While my own healing had begun, I knew I couldn’t make any further progress until I met with Prince Gladen.

Without my magic studies to keep me occupied and my sister working longer hours in the village, I had plenty of time to wait for him. I hoped he’d stroll the grounds today, both so I could see him and so I could give him the rose I hoped would be the countercurse needed to break his spell.

Nearly an hour passed before I heard footsteps against the cobblestones and spotted the prince entering the garden. I hastily tucked the cursed rose away and looked up. Prince Gladen strolled the paths with a book tucked beneath his arm and wearing a pensive frown; he didn’t seem to notice me. I used his distraction to check my magical disguise half a dozen times to ensure it fully covered me, unable to bear another confrontation.

Prince Gladen finally spotted me and his entire manner immediately lit up, causing my heart to give a rather pleasant lurch. It was almost strange to see him looking so cheerful after his previous coldness while interacting with me as Enchantress Astrid.

He eagerly hastened towards me before suddenly pausing with a rather shy look. “Good morning, Lady Dahlia.” He bowed, his movements sloppy in their rush yet still endearing.

I rose to curtsy. “Your Highness.”

He shifted nervously as I settled back onto the bench, his gaze darting repeatedly to the empty spot beside me. “Would it be alright if…I joined you?” The look accompanying his request was almost panicked, as if he was afraid I might say no.

“Of course you may.”

Clearly relieved, he sank onto the bench and perched on the edge, rather close to me, so that by bridging a few more inches our knees might graze. He cast me a shy smile.

“I’ve been hoping to encounter you, and have used my hunting excuse to escape to the woods so often that I believe my father is growing suspicious when I continually fail to return with any game, but no matter which foraging spot I search, you’ve remained rather elusive.”

I shrugged. “Are you surprised? You have yet to master hunting animals, and I’m much more difficult to catch.” I stiffened the moment the words escaped. Had I just said something…flirtatious? By the prince’s widening eyes, I had. My cheeks burned. “That is…I—”

My fluster was interrupted with Prince Gladen’s hearty laugh. “To think I’ve purposely neglected my hunting skills over the years when instead I should have been acquiring them so I could finally put them to good use. I suppose I can put a bit more effort into the sport with so tempting a reward.”

His good humor did little to lessen my embarrassment. What had possessed me to say such a ridiculous thing to the prince?

My flirtatious behavior must have given him confidence, for his strange shyness faded and he scooted a bit closer, so that our knees did touch. I attempted to salvage my sisterly loyalty by trying not to focus on the heated, almost ripply sensation such an innocent gesture caused me to feel. It didn’t work.

He leaned closer, his grin rather mischievous. “I suppose the first step in becoming an expert hunter is to thoroughly study what I’m chasing in order to make her easier to find, and here an excellent opportunity presents itself: I was hoping for an excuse to get to know you better.”

His words caused my heart to pound so wildly I was certain he could hear it. “I’m afraid I’m not interesting enough to warrant such a study, Your Highness.”

“Perhaps, but there’s only one way to find out. I shall do my best to uncover all your secrets.”

While his accompanying wink was friendly, it only caused the fear that was never far away to flare. He couldn’t find out everything, else moments like this would never happen between us again.

My worry must have shown in my expression, for the prince’s smile slowly faded. “Lady Dahlia? Are you—”

“I have something for you.”

I handed him the soft pink countercurse rose, which he reverently accepted. “A hybrid tea rose,” he murmured. Unlike the night I’d cursed him, he made no motion to disguise his delight or botanical knowledge as he admired it.

As he gazed at my gift, I reached within myself to access the last of my current reserves for the spell. The soft golden sunlight and my sincere desire to break the curse upon him both lent their power, and with each silent word the rose glowed.

His eyes widened. “What—” His words faltered and for a moment he looked almost panicked, as if remembering the last time he’d been given a rose, but he relaxed at my reassuring smile.

The glistening light faded from the rose’s petals as the spell completed, leaving it appearing entirely ordinary. I held my breath and waited, my gaze riveted to the warts and blisters marring his skin, hoping to see them fade…but nothing happened. My shoulders slumped. Once again I’d failed, leaving me back where I’d started.

Prince Gladen looked up with a curious lift of his brow. “Did you commission Enchantress Ivy to make a magical rose? Does it do anything special?”

“It’s simply a token; I know how much you admire flowers.”

His responding smile was soft. “I do. I’ll treasure it forever.” He carefully set the rose on the bench beside him and swiveled to face me. His smile faltered at seeing my expression. “Are you alright?”

I ached to share the burden my discouragement over my failed countercurse had created, but once again my secrets kept my true feelings locked away. “You appeared lost in thought about something when I first entered the gardens.”

He heaved a rather weary sigh. “I was. There’s something greatly troubling me. But that’s not important. You look rather troubled. Are you sure you’re alright?”

I forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

His brows drew together. “Forgive me, but you don’t seem fine. Has something happened since we last saw one another?”

Little did he know that he had happened. Our confrontation burned in my memory, as well as the difficult emotions it had brought with it. I sighed. “No, I suppose I’m not alright.”

“Might you confide in me?”

I meant to brush off his concern…but then he leaned even closer, his gaze so earnest…and rather sweet.

As if he possessed the key to the lock protecting my feelings, I found my heart opening against my will. “I’m afraid I’ve done something I fiercely regret and am at a loss on how to atone for it.”

His expression was immediately sympathetic. “Regret is a rather painful emotion, but whatever it is you’ve done, surely it couldn’t have been too terrible; you’re a kind person.”

I shook my head. “I’m not kind.”

“I beg to disagree. You see, I’m making it my mission to learn all I can about Lady Dahlia, and I’m confident when I say that you have a good heart.”

Perhaps that used to be true. If only it still were. “Good people don’t do what I’ve done.”

He grew thoughtful. “You can be good and yet still make mistakes.”

My heart stirred at his words. My mistake had brought darkness to both me and my magic, and at times it felt so consuming that I feared nothing could make it disperse. But the prince’s insight sparked within me a glimmer of hope that perhaps the light I so desperately sought could once again return to me.

“Even if that’s true, I still must atone for what I’ve done,” I said.

“Such a desire only proves the type of person you truly are.”

Hope touched my heart again, yet not enough for it to fully take root. “Yet I remain lost on how to do so.”

My shoulders slumped, weary from this riddle’s burden and all the failed attempts to break the curse thus far. Concern softened Prince Gladen’s expression as he took in my defeated manner before he suddenly stood.

I blinked up at him. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer as he walked to a clump of rose bushes, all blooming in a variety of vibrant colors. His gaze flickered towards me before selecting a violet rose that matched the color of my dress. My breath hooked, for purple roses were the royal symbol of the Kingdom of Rosileya, a flower that had taken several generations to cultivate, making it both rare and precious. Surely he couldn’t be…

He was. I stared in shock as he snapped the rose from the bush and returned to my side. “What are you doing?” I repeated breathlessly.

“Cheering you up.” He held out the rose, silently urging me with his eyes to accept his gift, yet I found I couldn’t move.

“But…I couldn’t. That rose—”

“—is the most special one growing on the palace grounds,” he said. “That’s why I want to give it to you.”

“But—” I couldn’t even finish my protest.

“Would you deny your prince his gift to you?” He leaned closer, as if to share a secret. “Let it be a symbol of your worth, of who you truly are, regardless of your mistakes.” And he pressed it into my hand.

My heart swelled as I accepted it. I stared first at the flower, then up at him, meeting his deep, soulful gaze with my own. I saw nothing of his outward appearance and distorted features, only the goodness shining through his eyes. This man was nothing like the beast my assumptions had made him out to be. But while his gesture deepened the remorse I felt for how sorely I’d misjudged him, it also strengthened my determination to somehow right my mistake.

I continued to stare at him, taking in his sweet and endearing grin and the bright way his eyes lit up, and once more felt my heart give a strange tug that was both pleasant and almost painful. I burrowed my nose into the rose’s soft petals and inhaled its sweet perfume, a lovely scent unlike any other filling the gardens, and one I was certain I’d remember forever.

I felt my smile grow, which caused his own to light up. “There it is; I knew your smile was around here somewhere. That alone was worth it.”

His words only caused my cheeks to warm and my smile to widen. He was being so sweet, so…unexpected, healing me rather than the other way around. As much as I welcomed his kindness, accepting it only escalated my guilt. Surely he wouldn’t extend it if he knew who I truly was.

Prince Gladen settled back beside me on the bench, rearranging his book on his lap. My gaze flickered down to it. “I didn’t expect to see you with a book outside the library or forest, where everyone can see you with it.”

He shrugged. “Since my image has already been ruined in other ways, I don’t feel the need to hide who I truly am anymore; I’m tired of pretending. I can’t believe I allowed myself to live such an exhausting charade for so long.”

“You are proving quite the unexpected surprise,” I said. “I admit I fully believed the image you portrayed to the world; I thought you rather conceited.”

He leaned back on his hands with a heavy sigh. “Perhaps there’s some truth to that. Why else would I do all I could to live up to the grandeur expected of me?” His frown deepened. “Perhaps I’d resigned myself to playing the part, considering the rest of my life was already unfolding according to a script of royal expectations that I had no freedom to alter.”

“You’re altering it now,” I said. “You’re accepting the expectations placed upon you and taking responsibility for your life.”

He considered my words, and as he did so, some of the warts lining his jaw faded away, a sign of the progress the prince had made towards healing. My heart lifted in hope…before it faltered at the prince’s heavy sigh.

“I’m trying, yet I find myself not succeeding.” He motioned to the book in his lap, and, curious, I glanced at the title…only to stiffen.

“That’s a book on magic,” I stuttered. “Whatever are you doing with it?”

“Trying to make sense of it.” He opened to his bookmarked page, whose heading indicated it was a section on countercurses. “While in the beginning I relished the freedom this curse gave me, it’s quickly becoming more of a hinderance, so I’m struggling to figure out a way to free myself. But studying magic is getting me nowhere; it’s like reading an ancient language I have no hopes of being able to decipher, and even if I could, I possess no power of my own to implement it. Yet I must do something.”

“Have you…asked the enchantress who cast the spell?” I wasn’t sure what compelled me to ask such a question, why I felt the sudden and rather intense need to know what he’d thought of the encounter that had haunted me ever since it’d occurred.

His entire manner changed in an instant, but to my surprise it didn’t become hardened like I fully expected, but rather…sad.

“I did, and I’ve regretted doing so ever since.”

My brow furrowed. “Why? Did the endeavor prove fruitless?”

He sighed and rubbed his temples. “It did, but that’s not what’s troubling me.” He gave me a wry smile. “This is not a story I should share if I’m desperate to keep in your good graces, but you were candid with me concerning your own mistakes and regrets, so it only seems fitting I share my own.”

I leaned closer. “I may not have so sweet a gesture to offer you as you extended to me, but I do have a listening ear.” I was desperate to do something to begin to atone for my offense against him, but more than that, I wanted to heal his heart, just as he’d begun to heal mine.

“Then prepare to be horrified as you hear how I behaved as an utter cad towards the enchantress, visiting her with the intent of seeing whether she could break my curse, only to treat her in a manner that leaves me disgusted with myself.”

I listened, my mouth dry. “I’m certain you have every right to be angry towards the one who did such a horrible thing to you.”

He didn’t immediately respond. “I initially told myself that very thing as a way to justify my behavior, believing the enchantress deserved my anger after what she’d done to me. But it wasn’t long after our encounter before I regretted my behavior. I’m not normally so cold towards anyone, at least not intentionally.”

At his words I couldn’t help thinking of my sister and the treatment she’d received from the prince, and while my heart still pained at what she’d been made to endure, there was some consolation that perhaps it hadn’t been intentional like I’d initially assumed.

Prince Gladen sighed. “Yet intentional or not, I still behaved abhorrently. It frightened me how easily I went against my nature. I want to be a better person than I was. Yet at the time, I was so upset that I just…” He fell silent.

My heart pounded painfully at his confession, especially at how closely his emotions mirrored my own. My own anger had caused me to be someone less than my best self, leading me down a path that had allowed me to break my promises and cause darkness to taint my magic. But now I realized that the darkness had begun long before I’d cast my curse—it had filled my heart, blinding me to what was truly before me.

Prince Gladen lifted his wart-covered hands with a frown and examined them, front to back. “Perhaps I’m not who I think I am. After all, I must have done something horrible for Enchantress Astrid to curse me in such a way.”

“No matter your curse, you’re not horrible,” I said hastily. “Her choices don’t determine your true character. You’re so sweet, so good, and so…” wonderful, but I was too shy to admit that particular sentiment out loud. “We all do things we fiercely regret.”

My fingers grazed the petals of the rose the prince had given me, still cradled in my lap, before I stood and walked to the same rosebush. I plucked another purple rose and returned to hand it to him. His brows drew together in puzzlement that I found rather endearing.

“Another flower? What’s this for?”

I took a wavering breath and repeated the very words he’d spoken earlier. “You can still be good and yet make mistakes. And you are good. You see, I’m making it my mission to learn all I can about Prince Gladen, and I am confident when I say you have a good heart. Let this be a symbol of your worth, of who you truly are, regardless of your mistakes.”

I had no name for the emotion lighting his eyes as he stared up at me, almost in wonder, before he slowly reached out, his fingers grazing mine as he accepted the rose. “Such sound council. Wherever did you hear it?”

“From a man who’s rather wise and will make a wonderful king someday,” I said.

“And it was beautifully returned by a woman who I suspect is very wise herself…even if she was foolish enough to pluck a royal rose without the prince’s permission.” His expression was too teasing for me to believe he was truly upset.

“Perhaps, but I’m on good terms with the future king and thus can get away with anything.”

To my relief he laughed, a gesture which lit up his entire face. I tilted my head to study him. Despite the curse disfiguring his features, I didn’t find him ugly. In fact, he was rather cute. Whether I was learning to see past his curse or it was fading as his own heart slowly healed, I wasn’t sure.

His good humor faded when he noticed my staring. He shifted nervously. “Are you…truly not repulsed?”

“No,” I said honestly. “I really am not.”

He blinked, seeming surprised…and rather awed. “No one has ever seen past my looks before, either as a handsome prince or as a beast.”

And I felt I truly could. The curse hadn’t lessened the light in his eyes, dampened his charm, or taken away his rather endearing boyish enthusiasm. Even though he was only a shadow of his former appearance, he was still rather…cute. But there was something deeper, something I wanted nothing more than to discover, to truly see who he really was.

If only he could see me in return, not as the enchantress who’d cursed him, but as one who’d give anything to take back that mistake and was striving to become better. But he likely would never be able to see that person, a thought which made me profoundly sad. I tried to push the emotion away, wanting nothing to ruin this moment between us.

Yet the moment was already ruined, for I now realized that I was playing a very dangerous game. If I wanted to keep my heart intact, then I couldn’t involve myself even further with the prince. Yet would I be strong enough to stop our deepening relationship?

His grin returned, causing my heart to lift. It was strange how quickly I’d grown attached to his smile. I forced myself to banish that foolish thought; I was growing as ridiculous as dear Rosemarie. Thinking of her only escalated my guilt for interacting with the man I knew held her interest.

“You’re a good person,” I repeated, wanting to assure him while I still could. “I know that’s true, Your Highness, so please never believe otherwise.”

I shifted, making to stand and leave, but froze at his next words. “Actually, it’s…Gladen.”

My breath hooked. I slowly turned back around to face him. “Gladen?” A girlish thrill rippled over me just from saying it.

His cheeks pinked. “Yes, that’s my name: Prince Gladen. I mean, not Prince Gladen. Just Gladen will do. I mean, I don’t want you to call me prince anymore. Titles are so unnecessary…” He sighed. “Blast, I’m certainly making a muddle of this. Perhaps bravery isn’t a princely quality that comes naturally to me. I’m even experiencing a brief moment of insanity thinking that arranged marriages are far easier than this…but I suppose they’re also far less rewarding.” He rumpled his hair with a nervous laugh.

“What do arranged marriages have to do with anything?” I stuttered.

“Nothing,” he said hastily before taking another wavering breath. “But back to the matter at hand: I’d appreciate it if from now on we could drop all formalities between us. After all, we’re friends…right?”

He held his breath, as if fearing my answer. The ache in my heart grew. Resorting to such a familiar address with my prince…I’d become much more entangled than I’d initially thought, which would inevitably make it all the more difficult to break away.

But for the moment I had him, and I’d cherish whatever was developing between us for as long as I could. “We are friends,” I whispered. Somehow, despite everything, it was true.

He beamed. “Then I shall call you Dahlia.”

Hearing him use my name so familiarly should have been a special moment, yet it felt almost tainted considering his dear voice spoke a name that wasn’t mine. I so wanted to tell him my real name so I could hear him speak it…but it was an impossible wish.

“That would be lovely,” I managed.

His smile grew. “Thank you.” He took my hand and held it between his. Despite the warts, all I could focus on was how warm and soft his skin felt against mine. “I’m afraid I have a meeting and must take my leave. But I hope…we can meet again soon, on purpose now rather than relying on chance.”

It was almost frightening how desperately I wanted to see him again. I was too breathless to respond, so, heart pounding, I could only nod.

He pressed a light kiss on my hand. “Then I shall be in the gardens tomorrow afternoon, just after tea. I’m looking forward to it.”

“So am I.” It was surprising how much.

I watched as he stood and left the garden, thrilling when he paused at the gate to steal a rather shy yet endearing look back, leaving me feeling strangely fluttery, a feeling deep down I knew I shouldn’t be experiencing, yet which I felt all the same.

It doesn’t mean anything, I tried to rationalize. The only reason I wanted to see him again was to break the curse and alleviate my guilt. We’re simply friends.

I repeatedly tried to reassure myself of this, but as I stared after him long after he’d departed the garden, the new emotions invading my heart told a different story, one I was almost afraid to continue. Yet though I was uncertain about where this journey would lead, I couldn’t deny I was desperate to find out.