The Beast and the Enchantress by Camille Peters
Chapter 9
During the next two weeks, I met with Prince Gladen nearly every day. We spent hours deep in conversation as we strolled the forest and gardens, or read together in the library, sharing the wonder that came from the written word.
The more our friendship deepened, the more light began to fill my life, until all the darkness I had been harboring at last dissipated. With my newfound contentment much of the curse faded away, a little bit more each day. Yet it didn’t vanish completely, not with my continuous deceit in keeping my true identity a secret from Gladen and the betrayal each meeting with him was to my sister.
While I hoped she’d found a new man to fancy, her lack of mentioning anything of the sort made me fear that my earlier suspicions of her shifting feelings hadn’t amounted to anything, leaving her heart more susceptible to heartache should she discover my secret relationship with the prince.
And she had every reason to maintain her interest. Gladen’s curse was also gradually disappearing and his handsomeness slowly returning, but although with it came the renewed attention of the court, his own towards me never diminished…a thought I welcomed even as it increased my unease concerning the nature of our relationship.
It was only friendship, I constantly reminded myself, but this was becoming more and more difficult for me to believe with every interaction with the prince.
With each passing moment I felt our connection deepen, more powerful than any spell; I dreaded the day when that spell would inevitably break…for surely this couldn’t last forever, as much as I wanted it to. But until that moment came, I’d bask in this new wondrous magic while it lasted.
Though my time with the prince caused light to chase away the shadows that had previously shrouded my heart, I hadn’t tried to access my magic for anything other than my disguise, too afraid my powers would remain elusive; if they didn’t return with the light, then I feared they were gone forever.
So I found other ways to assist Enchantress Ivy. I spent my days foraging for ingredients and preparing them, delivering remedies to the villagers, tidying and relabeling the shelves of potions, and spending extra hours immersed in my studies so I wouldn’t fall behind when, as Ivy believed, I would eventually resume my apprenticeship. She had more faith in me than I had in myself, for I was still at a loss as to how to dispel the curse completely.
The question repeatedly sent me to Ivy’s library. There the hours melted away as I studied books on magical laws and properties as well as accounts of cursed individuals who were eventually cured, but despite my best efforts I never found anything specific to my current dilemma.
It only deepened my despair…as well as my guilt for the continued deception. Though my time with Gladen brought me fierce joy, it was tainted by the knowledge that it was all a lie; the friendship we’d forged wouldn’t exist if he knew who I truly was. The disguise was a barrier between us, and it would remain so as long as I kept my true identity hidden and left what had happened between us unresolved, a path I feared to walk for the inevitable destination it would lead to.
But I knew taking it was the right choice, and I was tired of continuously making wrong ones. I couldn’t bear to live this way any longer. Which was how I found myself standing in my bedroom facing the mirror.
Though my magical disguise didn’t deceive my own eyes, my well-trained observation could detect faint glimmers of light surrounding me, signs of the illusion created for Prince Gladen. I lifted my hand and with a wavering breath reached inside myself for the spell that would remove it, the first enchantment I’d dared perform since sensing light reentering my magic.
At first nothing happened. My panic rose and I searched harder within myself, feeling as if I were peeling back several layers that served as an obstacle between me and my magic. Eventually I sensed a glimmer of power and struggled to pull it over myself, allowing it to take away the disguise until it’d faded completely. It was the first time in weeks I’d been free of it…leaving me feeling exposed, as if my secrets were no longer protected and would thus stop at nothing to condemn me.
With a steadying breath I left my room to head for the palace, pausing in the magic room to seek Enchantress Ivy’s permission to leave. Her eyebrows rose as she surveyed me, her well-trained eye immediately noticing the absence of my magical disguise. “Are you going to speak with His Highness?”
The very thought caused my chest to constrict, but I forced a nod. “I’m going to try. He deserves an explanation and an apology.”
She nodded her approval. “I’m relieved to hear that. You’ve come a long way, Astrid.”
I had my budding friendship with Gladen to thank for that. “How could I have been so blind before as to who the prince truly was?”
Ivy rested a gentle had on my arm. “Hardened hearts prevent us from seeing what’s truly in front of us. Don’t condemn yourself for your past mistakes, but instead focus on all the ways you grew from them. You are not who you once were.”
I wasn’t, both in good ways and ones I regretted. For after it had removed my spell, my magic had retreated back to where it’d been hiding; something that had once been so close to the surface now felt buried deep, and at this point it felt impossible to ever fully recover it, even with an apology.
Did I even deserve for my magic to return?
* * *
My heart poundedwith every step as my weak tracking spell guided me by its faded, flickering light through the palace corridors, much as it had the first day I’d spoken to the prince after the curse, but this time I was seeking him out for an entirely different purpose—not to try and expose his faults for him to see, but to expose my own.
As before, the tracking spell led me to the library, the very scene of my first interaction with Gladen after the curse. The location didn’t surprise me—the library was his favorite place when duty didn’t require him to attend meetings and other court functions.
My heartbeat escalated as I stared at the towering oak double doors, trying to summon the courage to open them. We’d created some wonderful memories within the room’s walls, and I feared I was about to taint them forever. But if I had any hope of one day being able to finally share that Lady Dahlia and Enchantress Astrid were one and the same, then this was the first step. Only knowing how much I cherished our friendship and that he deserved an apology, no matter how difficult it would be to extend, gave me the courage to finally enter.
I found Gladen in his usual window seat overlooking the rose garden that had also become very dear to me for all the time we’d spent there together. At the sound of my approaching footsteps he eagerly looked up, as if he recognized the sound of Lady Dahlia’s walk…only to find me instead. Confusion puckered his brow, quickly followed by wariness.
He snapped his book shut and shoved it out of view to prevent my seeing the title, so unlike his willingness to share his latest reads with Lady Dahlia. He stood with clear reluctance. “Enchantress Astrid.” His bow was stiff.
My mouth was so dry that it took me a moment to answer. “Gladen—I mean, Your Highness.” I dipped into a shaky curtsy.
His eyebrows rose at my familiar address and his stern expression only deepened.
I shifted on my feet as I nervously awaited his reaction to seeing me for the first time since our confrontation at Enchantress Ivy’s cottage, and while he didn’t look nearly as angry, he was clearly not pleased to see me. Despite knowing the reason, I was so used to his easy smiles towards me as Lady Dahlia that my heart ached, a pain more acute than I’d anticipated.
He clenched his jaw, as if trying to suppress words he knew he shouldn’t speak to the one who’d cursed him once before. “What brings you to the library, Enchantress? Forgive me if I hope it has nothing to do with me…or perhaps it does, considering the circumstance I now find myself in?”
I frowned. “And what circumstance is that?” My gaze drifted to his face. While several warts still remained, his features were no longer distorted, which meant he was finally receiving what he’d so earnestly pleaded me for the last time we’d spoken as Astrid and Gladen: the curse was breaking.
His look was baffled, as if he thought the answer should be obvious. “This.” He motioned to his face. “Surely I look different than the last time you saw me.” He rose his brows in challenge.
I hungrily took in his features, which had become so familiar and dear to me, no matter which state of the curse they were in. “Your curse is fading.”
“Your doing, I presume?” He became suspicious. “You told me you’re the only one who can break it, but that was the last thing I expected when you’re the one who cast it in the first place. Is this some sort of trick, a cruel way to give me false hope?”
I mutely shook my head.
His brow puckered at my admission, but it did nothing to soften his features or dispel the wariness lining his eyes. “Then perhaps you’re here for another reason.” I started to shake my head again, but he ignored the denial and pushed forward. “Are you going to recast the curse…or perhaps cast a new one entirely? Am I to be a frog after all?”
“No, I—” I struggled to speak, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with the painful direction this conversation was quickly taking.
“Because you couldn’t be here for any other reason,” he continued. “Why else would you seek me out other than to punish me for a reason I still don’t understand?”
His voice was rising along with his temper. As he spoke, fresh warts appeared along his cheek, a manifestation of the bitterness filling his heart towards me. I watched helplessly, wishing there were a way I could prevent them, but this aspect of the curse lay beyond my control.
His eyes widened as he felt the warts materialize. His fingers went to his face, poking and prodding at the newly formed blemishes. His glare snapped to me. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” It was only partially true, for while my magic wasn’t causing the warts to appear, I knew my unwanted presence was. This wasn’t what I’d wanted when I’d set out to apologize. Would he even listen to it should I manage to find both the words and the courage to speak them?
His glare sharpened. “You must be to blame; the curse hasn’t worsened until now. What other explanation could there be than that it’s all your doing?”
My heart gave a painful tug at his escalating frustration. Seeing his despair was far worse than my own when I’d first discovered the curse had backfired. “Due to the nature of the curse I cast, your anger is what’s fueling the curse’s power, and it is now beyond my control. I’d give anything to take it back. I can’t tell you how much I regret—if only I could—”
His snort cut off my fumbled attempts. “You can’t sincerely be sorry. Else you’d have broken the curse long before now.”
“I’m trying—”
But he no longer seemed to be listening. Instead he watched me through narrowed, suspicious eyes before quite suddenly he turned away and ran a hand through his hair as the fight left him. “I promised myself after our last interaction I wouldn’t allow my anger to make me treat you with such disrespect…a promise I’m clearly breaking.”
“I hold no blame against you,” I said. “Your anger is understandable.”
“Even so, it’s no excuse for my current behavior.” He released a heavy sigh. “Yet despite my best intentions, I find it difficult to treat you with anything less than suspicion. I admittedly have very little reason to trust you. Though my accusations are likely premature, I can think of no other reason for you to seek me out than for…this.”
He motioned to the warts lining his cheek. I tried to look at them, but all I saw was Gladen—a man I’d come to know and care for deeply.
“I came to…” Once more I tried to form the apology I knew I needed to give, but again it didn’t come.
My shoulders ached from the tension in my rigid posture, weary from both the confrontation and the burden of my deceit, a constant, unrelenting weight I couldn’t escape. I took in the distrust filling Gladen’s expression, his anger, and his sadness. What good were remorseful words when my actions had yet to succeed in showing him how truly sorry I was? Could I truly seek repentance when my mistakes lingered to haunt me? Until the curse was broken, I didn’t deserve his forgiveness.
I sighed and turned to leave. He let me go without argument, seeming relieved he’d escaped the confrontation with nothing more than a few extra warts.
I paused at the end of the row to glance back at him. He watched me leave with a great deal of apprehension, but while his expression remained hard, another emotion filled his eyes, different from the tension from our interaction. Something was distressing him, and whatever it was, my presence had undoubtedly made everything worse. I wanted to leave him better than I’d found him, not add to his burdens.
“Is something troubling you, Gladen?” The words escaped before I could register them, and too late I realized that not only was the inquiry too personal for Astrid and Gladen’s relationship, but I’d used his familiar name. “Your Highness,” I hastily corrected.
He tilted his head to study me with a look so intense it was as if he sensed the layers of secrets still between us and was trying to uncover them. My heart pounded wildly with his perusal. Surely he wouldn’t suspect the true reason for my slip-up…would he?
It felt like ages before he finally spoke. “My worries are none of your concern; I’d never share any part of myself with you.”
Even though the sentiment was well deserved, it still caused me to wince. I nodded and left him, but I didn’t leave the library. Desperation cinched my chest, urging me to still try to find a way to make amends. I hid myself behind several shelves and attempted to access my magic.
My powers were more reluctant to be of use after having so recently aided me, and even once I’d managed to grasp them, my rising helplessness made them slippery and difficult to control. My fingers managed to hook around a faint pinprick of magic…only for it to once again slip away.
Come on, I silently coaxed it. I need you, as does Gladen. Please.
As if my magic was also growing to care for him, at this earnest plea it granted me a portion of its powers, just enough to recast my disguise spell. The moment I was assured it fully covered me I hurried back to the window seat where I’d left Gladen, hoping he was still there.
I startled to a stop when I came upon him sitting with his shoulders slumped and his forehead burrowed in his hands. I stepped forward hesitantly, unsure whether it was truly wise to disturb him while he was in such a state.
“Prince Gladen?” I asked hesitantly.
At the sound of my voice his gaze snapped up. At first he seemed startled to see me, but then a grin lit his face, dispelling much of his previous melancholy. “Dahlia, I was hoping I’d see you today.” His brow furrowed. “Why did you refer to me as Prince Gladen? It’s been weeks since we’ve had such formality between us.”
The slip-up was natural considering that moments before formality had been yet another barrier between us, but I couldn’t confess such a thing. “I’m sorry.” The apology was for far more, a belated form of what I should have given him before. If only he knew.
“It’s no matter.” He started towards me, only to pause several feet away. His grin faltered as he took in my expression. Then he was in front of me, his eyes wide with worry. “Are you alright, Dahlia?” Whatever his own troubles were seemed to matter little to him now, his sole focus on me. It only made my heart ache further.
I nodded, but he wasn’t fooled by my lie. His concern deepened. He hesitated a moment before reaching out to rest his hands on my shoulders, a comforting touch that was warm and inviting, giving me the strange desire to lean in and let me hold me.
“It’s complicated,” I managed. “But what of you? You look to be in far greater distress than I am.”
He looked as if he wanted to protest my deferring his inquiry before his weariness fully overcame him, unable to be kept back any longer. “It’s…been a rather trying day. With my curse lessening, I’m expected to resume more of my original duties, not to mention much of the unwanted attention is returning.”
“You mean…with the women of the court?” My heart jolted at this news, a reaction I had no explanation for.
As if realizing his admission had bothered me, he soothingly rubbed my arms before he realized what he was doing. A blush enfolded his cheeks and he hastily yanked his hands away with an awkward cough.
“The stares are already proving wearying. I did not miss their interest or insincere attention, nor the pressure to resume playing the charade outlined for me, one I was quite happy to be free of. I feel as if I’m being thrust back into the world of royal expectations and am overwhelmed by the possibility.”
“And you’re unsure how to remain true to yourself?” I asked gently.
He managed a small smile. “You’ve always understood me, Dahlia.”
“I’ve come to know you well these past several weeks.”
Softness settled over his expression at my mention of all the time we’d spent together. “I’ve enjoyed our time together immensely. I regret our meetings will become more limited considering all the upcoming changes…now that things are improving.”
A frown tugged on his lips as his touch went to the warts which had appeared during his confrontation with me as the enchantress. I feared he’d bring them up, a conversation I couldn’t bear to have at this moment, so I hastily diverted the subject.
“How are things with your parents?”
He sighed as his hand lowered. “Not well, I’m afraid. I fear I’m reverting to my old habits by allowing them to mold my life as they see fit, as if the strength I’ve gained during my curse never happened.”
“I’m sure it’s still a part of you,” I said assuredly. “You were brave enough to hold your head high during your curse despite the dark whispers surrounding you, and you were strong enough to begin walking the path of being true to yourself. Thus I know you possess the strength to stand up to your parents.”
Hope brightened his eyes. “You really think so?”
I nodded. “Don’t let yourself go so easily now that you’ve discovered yourself. You’re worth fighting for.”
Tenderness filled his look. “I’m glad you encountered me in the library.”
My heart both lifted at his words and twinged with guilt that the first time I’d encountered him today hadn’t been nearly as pleasant. “Did you take refuge here? Perhaps from the fawning women of the court, your parents, or even…me?” It was an effort to keep my smile mischievous.
He returned it. “Never from you. And though I cherish this room, it’s admittedly not a very good hiding place.” His brow furrowed as he glanced towards where I as Enchantress Astrid had left moments before.
“What is it?” I asked, despite knowing exactly what was troubling him and being afraid to hear him speak of it.
He sighed. “I broke my promise again. After my last interaction with Enchantress Astrid, I was determined to behave better should I see her again. But when the moment came…I just couldn’t.”
“I’m sure you did your best.” The last thing I wanted was for him to feel additional distress on my account; I’d already caused him enough pain.
He shook his head. “Once again I treated her harshly. Despite my resolve to be better, the moment I saw her…I was admittedly frightened. I was convinced she was going to turn me into a toad, and that would have ruined everything.”
He gave a hollow laugh, even as my heart lurched yet again. So he wasn’t just angry towards me, but afraid. It was yet another obstacle that would make it even more difficult for me to eventually confess the truth.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” I said gently. “Change doesn’t happen overnight. What’s important is that you desire to improve and continuously work towards it.”
The truth of my own words settled over me, urging me to extend such grace towards myself, but it was so much harder to give it the more I regretted my actions and came to care for Gladen.
A new emotion filled his eyes, one that was far deeper than the friendship we’d been nourishing drop by drop. “You’ve been such a support to me, Dahlia. I can’t tell you what it means to me, how much you’ve helped me.”
He reached out as if to take my hand, and with the gesture I suddenly recognized that unnamed emotion hidden in his expression, one that revealed that what we had between us had moved beyond friendship to something more without my even realizing it.
For a moment I almost allowed him to take my hand, aching to know what his skin felt like against mine and wanting nothing more than to explore the sensations I finally realized were enfolding my heart. But at the last moment I pulled my hand back, tucking it securely behind me and scooting several inches away to create much-needed space between us. But it didn’t remain there long before I moved my hand back, as if part of me invited him to touch me.
His gaze flickered down to my hand with a look of longing but he made no motion to take it, much to my fierce relief…and admittedly disappointment, an emotion which only deepened my confusion. Why did I want to hold Gladen’s hand? We were only friends.
Only this time, when I thought the familiar words, I recognized them for the lie that they were—one I’d told myself for weeks in an attempt to assuage my guilt for how far I’d allowed this to go. But I couldn’t deny the truth any longer: something was changing between us, a shift occurring within my heart that wasn’t only friendship, but something deeper and far more precious.
And now that the process had begun I feared there’d be no way to stop it. But I could try. I needed to. For this wasn’t just about my feelings.
It was also about Rosemarie.
Guilt pierced the warmth from my blossoming feelings for Gladen, souring them until I felt I’d be sick. What had I done?