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Chapter 1

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My name is Beauty. It is likely that you have heard of me. My story, or rather, the one they tell of me, has been told too many times to count. But that is not really my story at all. The particulars have been disregarded entirely. I would have thought that with all the telling of it someone would have, just once, stumbled upon the truth. And perhaps some of you did read between those illusory lines and suspect the truth, incredible and shocking as it is. Or maybe the truth is really too fantastic to believe. I admit there are times when I can hardly believe it myself, and it all seems like a faraway dream.

In fact, some of what has been put down in the various accounts of my life is true, for, in order to save my poor father’s life, I did consent to live with a fearsome creature that was more beast than man. It is also true that I fell in love with the Beast. As for what happened after that, the storybooks are quite accurate in their exposition for the Beast, immediately upon my avowal of love, was released from an evil curse and returned to his original form as a charming prince. We were married that very day.

But that is where the similarities between the legends you have read and my own incredible narrative end. For I have not lived “happily ever after” since that day.

You see, I miss my Beast.

As I languish here within the lonely halls of this castle, my mind often drifts back to the very first day I spent here. It was with much trepidation that I left my bedchamber that day, very cautiously, to make my way through the vast corridors that twist and turn throughout this fortress. Despite much speculation over the matter (for I had slept not one wink the night before), I could not imagine why the Beast had requested my presence there. I spent the day alone, wandering in and out of rooms and exploring the unfamiliar surroundings, while trying to guess what was in store for me.

This is not to say that I came to the great castle of the Beast against my will, for I was quite anxious to leave the poverty and boredom of my childhood behind me, and so when obligation awarded me this adventure, I was not entirely dissatisfied. I could not have said what a castle should look like, but it seemed to me that everything I saw was exactly as it should be. Very austere-looking ancestors silently gazed down at me from the lofty positions where their portraits hung superciliously upon the walls. Other walls displayed splendidly woven tapestries of French picnics, Italian vineyards and other exotic affairs. The furniture was intricately carved from the finest lumber, and the carpets were extravagantly thick and colorful. In short, everything was quite extraordinary in its elegance and splendor.

I did not chance to meet the Beast while roaming the castle that day. He had, upon my arrival the previous evening, instructed a servant to take me directly to my bedchamber after I had bidden my father a quick farewell, and watched with strange detachment as he loaded two brimming trunks onto his coach. These were gifts from the Beast, who instructed that they be filled with treasures for my father to take away with him. It calmed and pleased me to imagine my family’s delight when opening those trunks.

I did not stir from my bedroom during the remainder of the night, sleepless though I was. I pondered the end of my old life during the long hours of that quiet night, and even into the next day as I drifted from room to room, examining everything at leisure, without seeing a single soul about the place.

Supper was announced with the tinkling of a bell, and it was there that I once again encountered the Beast. Despite his gruesome appearance and gruff voice, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that he was, in fact, a gracious host, and we passed that first dinner with pleasant conversation and food and drink that delighted the palate.

As soon as the meal was concluded, the Beast rose from the table, surveying me with his dark eyes for a moment before asking, “Will you marry me, Beauty?”

I stared at the Beast in utter astonishment. What was I to do? Though my heartwas hammering a loud warning of caution not to anger the Beast, I somehow managed to whisper, “No, Beast.”

The Beast merely nodded bleakly, saying, “Very well, then,” in a tone that indicated he had expected my reply, and he abruptly left the hall.

Relieved that I had not provoked the Beast with my refusal to his preposterous request, I too left the dining room to retire for the evening.

Have I forgotten to describe my bedchamber? Do not think it is because the room was not worth mentioning, for it was, and continues to be, the most beautiful room I would find in this elegant castle.

When first entering the chamber on the previous evening, I was too preoccupied to take much notice of my surroundings. On this night, however, I darted from one thing to the next, examining the wonderful array of objects that had been placed there for my pleasure, until at last my eyes beheld the extraordinary bed upon which I was to sleep. Along its towering posts it displayed, in great detail, the carved images of wild animals, spiraling along the edges and seemingly moving upward until, at the top, there sat a beautiful man with a crown. I knew not the meaning of the exquisite carvings that lanced that wooden frame, but gazed attentively at them nonetheless, for their beauty was not lost on me in spite of my humble upbringing.

Beside the bed an enormous bouquet of no less than one hundred fragrant pink roses stood placidly in an oversize vase that had been set on the bedside table. And, upon my word, from that day forward I was never to enter my chamber of an evening without finding an equally remarkable display of freshly cut flowers beside the bed.

The bedding was every bit as magnificent as everything else I had feasted my eyes on that day, and a shiver of pure delight ran through me as I slipped between the sumptuous silken sheets. It was such a pleasurable feeling that I was momentarily tempted to remove my nightdress. Instead, I ran my hand slowly across the bedding. Mysenses were rapidly becoming engulfed in exotic sensations amidst the influence of such luxury.

I was startled out of my enchantment suddenly when there came a light rapping on the door of my chamber.

“Who’s there?” I inquired, sitting up and clutching the silk sheets about my neck.

“It is only I, your servant, the Beast,” came the gentle reply.

His manner was as reassuring and appealing to me as his appearance was frightful. “Do come in,” I said, more at ease.

The Beast opened the door to my bedchamber but did not step over the threshold. Through the dim light of the hallway, I could clearly see his physical outline, which would have been terrifying if not for his gentlemanly demeanor. I waited for him to speak.

“I only wished to inquire if all was satisfactory, My Lady,” he said, remaining just outside the doorway.

“Satisfactory?” I echoed, suddenly amused. “Good heavens, no! I would never in my wildest imaginings have dared to describe these accommodations as ‘satisfactory.’” I smiled happily at my little joke, as I flung the extravagant bedclothes aside, and reached toward the nightstand to light the lantern.

The Beast remained silent and stared at me as if stunned. Upon seeing his expression, I realized my flippant reply must have insulted him and immediately tried to put matters right.

“Oh, Beast! What I meant to say…well, of course every thing is quite satisfactory. Why, it is more than satisfactory! That is what I meant of course.”

Beauty and The Beast

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